Fender Bender Dating
by OyHumbug
Summary: Marissa Cooper is running late on the worst day imaginable, and, just her luck, traffic is absolutely horrible that day. What happens when she meets Ryan Atwood under the most stressing situation possible? AU NOW A FICLET
1. Chapter 1

_Of all the days for there to be bumper to bumper traffic, it would have to happen today_, Marissa Cooper thought to herself. Already late because she could not decide which outfit made her look smart yet stylish, sophisticated yet age appropriate for, what could very well be, the most important presentation of her career, she knew that if the traffic didn't improve soon, she would loose her first big-scale client. After deciding upon a classic cut, Chanel suit, which, of course, had altered the style she needed to wear her hair, making her hurry to put it up, Marissa had realized that she had no time to apply her makeup, grabbed her drawings, and, literally, raced out the door to her brand new Mitsubishi Eclipse, the very first car she had bought all on her own. Marissa was proud of it; Julie, her Mother, was horrified, refusing to ride in it….which wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Their relationship during Marissa's high school years had been a whirlwind, ever changing and extreme, but as Marissa's life found a balance in college, so did her relationship with her over-bearing, materialistic Mother. Going to the Design Institute of San Diego, Marissa had majored in Interior Design, surprising no one more than herself. It was so…Julie, but it also was a job that would be dependable, useful, yet interesting at the same time. True, San Diego was not that far from Newport, but the distance it provided was just enough for Marissa and Julie to mend their relationship. Eventually, the started talking on the phone or chatting online late at night when they were both bored and couldn't sleep, Julie up worrying over a business issue at the Newport Group where she had, at first, gotten a job because Kirsten Cohen felt sorry for the wife of her former best friend who skipped town after his investment business failed, but eventually she made it her own, earning the respect of not only her co-workers but others in the interior decorating field, and Marissa stressing over finals or a large design project she had procrastinated on. The phone and internet conversations turned into visits, Marissa going home to Newport to see her Mom on holidays; and by her senior year, one or the other would drive to see the other every weekend, either Marissa at home or Julie at Marissa's small but comfortable apartment. Perhaps the change in their relationship occurred, because both realized the other was the only person they could truly count on besides themselves.

It seemed to Marissa that she had been abandoned by almost every single person in her life. Her cowardly father ran away from his problems and his family, leaving her emotionally scarred for many years and irrationally angry at her Mother because she needed someone present in her life to blame. She had no siblings, no brother or sister to fight with every other day except the one where you needed a shoulder to cry on. Her parent's families were not a part of her life whether voluntarily or not, and by the time she was an adult, Marissa did not have the ambition or the energy to find them. Even her best friend walked out on her, choosing such frivolous things as popularity and social acceptance over friendship and honor. When Marissa's family fell apart, Summer had abandoned her, claiming it was too hard to be her friend when she was financially unstable, going to public school, and an outcast from the exclusive society they resided in, even going so far as sleep with Marissa's still-then boyfriend, Luke. Although shattering that relationship for Marissa ended up being a blessing in disguise, a true friend would never have done that.

Eighteen, on her own, and entering college, a wary Marissa did not trust easily, making it extremely difficult for her to make friends, and, although she formed a couple meaningful friendships during her four years of college, she rebuilt the most important one in her life, that with her Mother. Sure, they still fought as wildly as they used to, but, at the end of the day, their transgressions were always forgiven and the bond kept intact.

For two years after graduation, Marissa had worked under Julie at the Newport Group, learning from her and teaching her new tricks of the trade as well, building a portfolio, a client list, and confidence while acquiring valuable work experience. Living frugally the entire time, she had saved her money, banking it away for her future, even going so far as to live with Julie, separately in her own quarters and paying her rent. Then, surprising everyone, she had resigned from her job, one that provided her with a generous salary and amazing benefits, to start her own business at the tender age of 24. That was why she had saved her money.

It hadn't been easy; difficult would even be a nice way to describe her first three years on her own. People were hesitant to employ someone so young, so inexperienced when the community was filled award winning, highly sought after designers with the credentials to back up their hefty fees. Her office had, at first, been the living room of her apartment. With no secretary, she not only had to handle any of the design issues herself but also every aspect on the business end, even going so far as to having to answer her own phone, something that did not impress prospective clients. After six months of battling the job market with little success, she had taken a risk, invested her money in a small storefront property along the pier, hired a secretary and pleaded for her risk to pay off. It did.

Using the windows to display examples of her work, the fledgling business attracted enough attention and jobs to pay the bills, but the jobs were simple, unsatisfying, boring, especially for someone who, for the first two years of her life, had worked on the mansions of the elite and business offices of the supremely wealthy. Eventually though, those small jobs gave Marissa the reputation of being dependable, smart, edgy, fun, and that led to slightly larger scaled projects for more prominent customers, profits, and satisfaction. Perhaps, what she valued the most, was the respect and admiration she received from those who had known her as a child. When her former neighbors and classmates came to her, she knew she had made it. No one was more proud than Julie.

That was four years ago. Now, 28 and on the verge of her last year before 30, Marissa could finally consider herself a success. She had purchased her very own, brand new car, had an apartment that was not in the numbered streets, and was finally treating herself to her first real vacation, a week in Paris, for her upcoming birthday. Julie thought it was scandalous and frankly weird that she wanted to travel alone; Marissa was ecstatic, especially since she could go anywhere and do anything she wanted with no one to complain or disagree. The only thing that could make her life better was landing her first, big client.

Marissa was one of three interior decorators who had been chosen to present their designs for the remodel of the local Four Seasons hotel. She didn't just want this job; she lusted after it. It was the perfect opportunity to showcase just what she was capable of, not to mention that designing a hotel would be amazingly fun, but here she was, running late, irritated, in a traffic jam that did not look like it was about to improve any time soon, and, though mentally prepared, physically not. _At least I can put my makeup on while we move along at the slowest fucking speed imaginable to man,_ Marissa thought to herself, opening her purse and pulling out her foundation first. Normally she preferred simplistic makeup, fresh faced and natural, but not on days where her appearance could be the deciding factor as to whether or not she got the job of her dreams. Days like this deserved the full treatment.

Ryan Atwood was having a good morning, so good not even a traffic jam could sour his mood. His work load light that week, he had gotten plenty of sleep, a rarity for a rising lawyer in one of the most prestigious law firms in Southern California where he specialized in real-estate law. He was said to have a promising future there; partner opportunities would surely come his way. While getting ready that morning, his court date was rescheduled. Perhaps if the tie had already been around his neck, the noose that kept him in line already in place, he would have continued into work, but in just his dress pants he felt free enough to take advantage of the judge's misfortune and grant himself a long weekend. Whistling, he had left his small house, essentially a bachelor pad but he preferred to look at it as an investment, in ripped jeans and a stained t-shirt and made his way to his favorite coffee shop, where not only had he been waited on right away, but they had even had his favorite cookies available, still hot from the oven.

Coffee and cookies gone, he was on his way home….well to his childhood home, in Chino where his Mom still lived. Even though she lived only 45 minutes away, his work schedule limited their interaction, the majority of the time, to phone calls. She refused to let him buy her a computer, so they couldn't talk online, and webtv was out of the question, she said. Deciding he would surprise her with a visit and also give himself a chance to do a little upkeep around her small house for her while he was there in exchange for a home cooked meal, Ryan was happily riding along in his car, enjoying the sunshine, for he often didn't get out of his office until the sun had long set, and keeping beat on the steering wheel with the Journey song blaring through his custom sound system. Sure, the traffic might hardly be moving, but he was in no hurry, for once in his life.

The prospect of spending the day with his Mom, Dawn, put a smile on Ryan's face. Although she was his best friend now, that hadn't always been so. His life had been a horror story until around his sixteenth birthday. A single parent to two difficult boys after her husband abandoned his family in favor of the single life on the road, Dawn had tried to support her broken family to the best of her ability, but she had one weakness, the constant need to have a companion in her life. Her taste in men was not her best attribute either. Some were abusive, some were addicts, while others were lazy and shiftless, but, no matter what, every relationship she entered into ended badly, and things just continued to get worse for the two Atwood boys.

Trey, Ryan's older brother, couldn't deal with it that well. Instead of turning inside of himself, burying his life in his studies and books like Ryan, he turned to the local thugs for support, landing himself in jail by the time he was nineteen and Ryan was fifteen. Even though they weren't close, the loss of his brother made Ryan bitter, but it also made Dawn realize that she had only one shot left to make anything in her life a success, and she became determined to make Ryan one. She stopped dating, telling her friends that she had already met the love of her life, her son, and worked two jobs so that Ryan would not have to work after school, leaving him free to load up on AP classes and take part in extra-curricular activities, graduating three years later standing fourth in his class.

Because of his excellent academic standing and their economic restraints, Ryan got a full scholarship, electing to stay locally in order to be near his Mom. He went for his bachelor's degree at UC Irvine, commuting back and forth from Chino everyday and playing soccer for the school. Four years later, he had to leave home, the hardest thing he ever had to do, and went to Stanford for his law degree. He surpassed even his own goals in college, immediately getting his choice of jobs after graduation. Although he loved San Francisco, he wanted to be close to home, close to his Mom, so he moved back to Southern California and into a neighbor that he always felt would exclude him, Newport Beach. Ryan had asked Dawn to move in with him, but she had refused, claiming that she couldn't leave her home, her friends, the first good job, as a manager of a cleaning company with her own team of employees, she had ever had. Mother and son, happy yet lonely at times, had both finally found success.

_What the hell,_ Ryan thought to himself, his memories ceasing to float through his mind as he finally noticed the driver behind him. Their tinted windows prevented him from seeing what they looked like, but with every passing moment they crept closer and closer to his car, too close for comfort even for traffic in Southern California. To make matters worse, it looked like they weren't even watching the road, their attention occupied, obviously, by something else for he could see their arms moving around in a rushed manner. Creeping up a little more to make a cushion between his car and the one behind him, he shook his head and dismissed his concerns. _Screw them_, he thought to himself, _I'm not going to let some idiot ruin my day._ Pressing along the packed freeway, his thoughts went back to contemplating his life and fantasizing about what his Mom just might make him for dinner.

Cell phone in left hand, right hand applying mascara, knees, through practically immobile due to the tight skirt she was wearing, steering the car, Marissa was attempting to multitask as she made her way to the meeting. "I don't care what you have to do," she yelled into her phone, her nerves and anxiety preventing her from realizing her secretary could hear her just fine, that yelling was not necessary, "stall them!" "I'm on my way, but traffic is a bitch today, and I cannot miss this meeting. This could finally be my big break, and to be able to go on vacation in two weeks with the knowledge that I landed the hotel remodel…..I'd be able to go to Chanel and not worry about forever sending myself into financial ruin," Marissa squealed in excitement. "Shit," she complained, contorting her torso to lean down and pick up her mascara wand, "I just dropped my…..ugh, found it." Sitting up quickly, Marissa's eyes, one with makeup and one without, focused just in time to see her car hit the stopped car in front of hers. "Oh no…..oh my god……holy hell, this cannot be happening!"

"What," the confused secretary asked, "what did you drop? Unless you dropped your coffee on the designs, I don't see what the big deal is."

"Beemer," Marissa answered, her breathing heavy and erratic. "I'm so screwed! How did this happen? This CANNOT be happening today." Almost to the point of hysterics, she continued as she pulled her car off to the side of the road. "And I ruined my brand new mascara. I've got to go. If I get arrested for running, come and bail me out!" And with that, she snapped her cell shut, hid it in her purse, put her makeup away, and opened her door to confront the car's owner in front of her, forgetting that she had never applied any makeup to her left eye.

The other car's door was just opening, but Marissa was already apologizing, her most contrite and innocent expression gracing her perfect face. "I'm so sorry," she began. "I'm just having a terrible morning, because I'm running behind for this really important meeting, and now this traffic….," she trailed off, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes met his. _Could this get any worse,_ she asked herself silently, her mind momentarily free of work concerns. All she could see was the man in front of her. She literally felt her breathe catch. Never had she ever been as attracted to someone as she was at that moment, and she didn't even know why. Sure, he was good looking….hot and sexy to be more exact, but she saw men as good looking everyday. Perhaps it was his slightly scruffy face; it was obvious he hadn't shaved that morning. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, oozing confidence and self-esteem in a body that knew how to move to its best advantages. Yet, it could also be his eyes. If she wasn't careful, she'd loose herself, willingly, in them. Taking in every nuance of this stranger before her, Marissa never noticed him bending down to inspect their two cars, and he had to speak twice to regain her attention.

"What do you do," he asked her, a smirk on his face. "Do you work for a makeup company?" When she didn't reply but merely stared at him, lips parted and wet, he laughed before speaking up again. "That's some interesting makeup you're sporting there," his voice finally breaking through the haze of desire that had been clouding her mind.

"Oh, yeah, that," she blushed, "I was really late, so I never had a chance to put makeup on this morning, but I figured why not take advantage of the traffic jam. It might make me miss my meeting, but at least when I show up, late, to get the news that the company decided to go with someone else, I'd at least look presentable to be turned away."

"So that's what you were doing," Ryan remarked standing up and dusting off his hands. Noticing her quizzical expression, he explained. "I could tell you were doing something strange through your window, but what exactly you were up to, I had no idea. Now I know though, makeup."

"And talking on my cell phone with my secretary, trying to get her to stall the people I was supposed to meet with this morning, but then I dropped my mascara, bent over to pick up, and as soon as I sat back up, I hit you."

Looking around at their surroundings briefly before turning back to her, Ryan spoke up. "Well, there's good news and bad. What do you want first?"

"Bad," she answered.

"There's some damage to your car, not much," he amended when he noticed her saddened expression. "It would take just a few hours to fix. A new headlight, a little buffing of some minor scratches, and maybe some touch up painting is all it would take to make it as good as new again."

"I can live with that," Marissa said calmly, sighing with relief. "What's the good news?"

"There's actually two pieces of good news. One is that my car doesn't seem to have any damage."

"My insurance company and I thank you," Marissa joked, impressing Ryan that she still had her sense of humor despite her stressed state. "What else do you have for me?"

"Traffic's clearing up," he pointed out with a charitable smile on his face. "It looks like you just might make it to your meeting after all."

"Yeah, except we have to wait for the police to arrive and we have to call our insurance companies. It's going to take all morning," she lamented, leaning against the warm hood of her car, totally disregarding her once perfect suit. "I hope I'm not going to make you late for anything."

"Just going to visit my Mom," he dismissed with a wave, causing his cuteness factor to rise even higher for Marissa. _Not only was he apparently a nice guy, but he was also good to his Mom_, her one track mind told her before his voice startled her out of her revelry.

"But, I'll make you a deal," he suggested, continuing when she nodded to signal her interest. "What if we just pretend this never happened, that way it won't be necessary to call the cops or our insurance companies and you can get to your meeting."

Surprised, Marissa blurted out, "are you sure?"

"Yeah, why not," he shrugged, opening his car door and pulling out his wallet. "Here's my card. Call me if you have any problems."

"Oh, let me get mine, too," Marissa quickly agreed, scrambling into her car to search for a business card. Finally finding one, she handed it to him, their hands meeting as they exchanged cards sending sparks through both of their bodies, their eyes lifting briefly to connect. They merely stared at each other for a minute before Ryan broke into the moment.

"You better get going if you don't want to be late," he prodded.

"You're right," she agreed still not moving. Finally regaining her ability to move, she backed up towards her open car door slowly, her eyes staying locked on his until the point where she had to get in. Waving shyly, she spoke one last time, thanking him for being so understanding, before shutting her door and speeding off, her mind drifting back to the blonde haired, blue eyes man she had just wrecked into. Unable to help it, she looked at his business card. _Ryan Atwood_, she read to herself over and over again in her mind. _It suits him_. Accelerating down the freeway towards her possible future, suddenly the idea of going to Paris alone was not as appealing any longer.

"You know," she teased him, swinging her legs back and forth carelessly he noticed as he glanced over his shoulder at the enchanting beauty propped up on the work bench of his Mother's garage, "you didn't have to do this."

Answering her, he said, "I wanted to."

"Yeah but I was the one who hit you," Marissa laughed. _She could have no other name_, he thought himself. "Normally the innocent party does not fix the one responsible for the accident's car….for free."

"Who said I'm doing this for free," he smirked at her. "And besides, you're going to help me."

"Not dressed like this," she argued with him, motioning to her now wrinkled, expressive, black suit.

"My gym bag is in the back of my car out front," he pointed out. "Go grab it and change into something a little more appropriate."

"Aren't we demanding," she joked, jumping down off the high, wooden structure and sauntering out of the garage in a decidedly captivating sashay. _She walks like that to torture me_, Ryan thought to himself only to stop dead in his tracks when she reentered, gym bag in hand and started changing right there.

"Wh….what are you doing," he stumbled across his words.

"Changing, like you told me to," she responded, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. "I couldn't very well change outside, and there's no way I was crawling in the back seat of that little sports car you drive to change."

"Ever heard of the house," he played along. "Or do you add exhibitionist to your list of illegal activities? I hope those people you interviewed for today don't know about your little hit and run and penchant for stripping in public."

"Our accident wasn't technically a hit and run," she pouted. "You told me to leave. And as for the public indecency charge, I'm not in public; I'm just in front of you." To add effect, she stuck her tongue out at him before slipping his tank over her head, the shirt so big, generous proportions of her bra peeked through. Sliding his track pants on underneath her skirt, she wiggled out of the previous garment, tossing it inside of her car before going to stand behind him. "So, what are you working on," she asked, curious.

"Do you really want to know," he asked her. She shook her head yes. "Alright then, come here," he motioned to her, sliding back so she could stand in front of him. "I'll show you."

Using her body, her hands to replace his owns, he gently moved her fingers to where they were needed, working to buff out the slight scratches the accident caused, but even after she had the hang of it, he never let go of her. Instead, he moved closer to her, wrapping both of his arms around her hips and taking her hands in his, lacing their fingers together. "Maybe you shouldn't do this," his voice was low, sultry, capable of making her body quiver. "We wouldn't want to get any grease on your soft….delicate hands," he explained running his index finger along the underside of her wrist.

"Why not," she flirted back, "cleaning up is half of the fun." Twisting around to see him, needing to know that she was sending his senses into overdrive just as he was to her, their faces came close together, their lips tantalizingly so, close enough that each would swear they could taste the others breathe, Ryan's a cool mint; Marissa's a steamy cinnamon. Closing her eyes for a moment and then reopening them to only bite her lip, Marissa stared deeply into his gaze, the nerves, anticipation, and want she was experiencing so clear in her eyes it took Ryan's breath away. "What are we doing," she asked him, her voice a mere rasp.

"I'm welcoming you to Chino," Ryan teased, a cheeky smirk on his face. It was Marissa's undoing. Closing the gap between their faces, she slowly traced his mouth with her fingers, eye lashes fluttering slightly out of anticipation. Leaning into him, she slid her fingers down to his jaw, holding onto his face softly as she tenderly kissed him, their lips merely teasing each other, floating across the others and heightening their passion. Time stood still; it did not matter. As their embraces increased in desire, their lips parted to let their tongues blend together seamlessly; the heat of their touches singeing their fingertips with lust.

Pulling away from her, Ryan looked into Marissa's eyes and saw that she had no doubts; that was all that he needed. Words, at that point, were superfluous. Trailing his hands languidly down her torso, caressing the sides of her breasts and her slender stomach through the material of her clothes, he took hold of the edges of his tank top, pulling it gently off of her delicate, delectable frame and tossing it aside. Where it landed, he didn't care. Trailing his fingers over her plump lips as he stood up and moved away from her towards the radio, he motioned to her to be patient. _This is insane. We just met each other a few hours ago_, he thought to himself as he adjusted the dial to his favorite hard rock station, the volume so intense it rattled the window panes. _No one will hear us now_, Ryan laughed silently to himself before making his way back to Marissa.

Wordlessly, he picked her up carefully, her hands sliding around his neck comfortably as her long, luscious legs wrapped around his body, and carried her back to the workbench, sitting her down gently before leaning his body into hers and taking her mouth in, yet another, dizzying kiss while his hands found their way to her bra clasp, letting it fall off her body. He could not get enough of her, and he knew, from the gleam in her eye that the feeling was mutual. As the music pulsated on, their bodies, slick and sweaty in the late August heat, came together as one, a repeating chorus of harmonic need, rhythmic satisfaction, and melodic delight.

Sitting up in bed at the sound of his alarm going off at exactly 7:00 AM, Ryan Atwood, for the third morning straight woke up in the middle of the must frustratingly wonderful dream possible. His body glistening and tense, he knew another very cold shower was in need to calm his body down. Unfortunately, a cold shower was not always available as he had learned Friday evening when his Mom had emerged into the living room after checking on dinner only to disturb a pleasant fantasy he was imagining, a throw pillow his only help, or Saturday when he had been at the gym getting dressed, his bag when he was walking out coming in handy then, or, again, Sunday during the preseason football game he was watching with a buddy from work, a quick escape to the bathroom when the friend wasn't looking his only saving grace. He did not even want to think about when she would enter his mind today at work and completely bewitch him. It was like he was under a spell and the only thing he could think about was that woman from the freeway, the one who had hit him, the one he could not close his eyes without imaging her out of her becoming suit.

Standing up from his bed, he turned off his alarm clock, the music disturbing his thoughts, and noticed her business card laying on the nightstand. Picking it up, he twirled it in his fingers, a smirk on his face as he made his way into the bathroom, the cold shower even more necessary than before. If he couldn't get her out of his mind, he better find a way to make her a reality and not just a fantasy.

Completely dressed in a designer suit, Ryan made his way out of his house, briefcase in hand, and settled into his car, pulling out of his driveway before picking up his cell phone. Dialing the number he had memorized while getting ready, he waited for her to pick up, hoping she would answer.

"Marissa Cooper Designs," the chipper voice on the other line greeted him, obviously not the woman the company was named for. "How may I help you?"

"Yes, can I please speak to Miss Cooper," Ryan asked politely, a smile he couldn't control flashing across his face.

"May I ask who's calling," the secretary inquired.

"Ryan Atwood."

"Just one moment sir," and one moment later it was when Marissa's tense voice filled the lines.

"What's wrong," she asked him without even so much as a greeting. "I knew everything was too easy," she complained. "It kept me up all weekend. Let me guess, I actually totaled your car or you think I've caused permanent back damage. Perhaps you're an undercover cop who tricked me into not following the law….."

"Miss Cooper….Marissa," Ryan interrupted her. "Nothing's wrong." Laughing at her antics, he continued. "And as for not sleeping this past weekend, it seemed to be an epidemic; I suffered from the same problem, but I think the cause was definitely different and more pleasant in my situation."

_Holy shit,_ Marissa thought to herself, _he's flirting with me._ Wanting to play along though despite her anxious mood, she teased, "then, if you're not going to sue me, I saw you were a lawyer by the way, to what do I owe this pleasure."

"There might not be anything wrong," he explained, "but I think I deserve something for being such a good sport about the whole situation."

Shocked by his forward nature, she exclaimed, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"That means that I hope you have something nice on today, because I'll be at your office at 5:00, I'm getting out of work early, and I'm taking you out on a date."

"You're kidding, right," Marissa asked, flabbergasted. "I mean….you don't even know me."

"Oh I'm as serious as that glimpse of your cleavage I got when you bent over to retrieve your business card last Friday," he shot back playfully, "and if you don't live up to my expectations, remember that I have the power to get you in quite a bit of trouble with the police." When she didn't say anything, the line filled with silent disbelief on her part and reserved anticipation on his, he continued. "5:00 and not a minute later, and I expect you to look your finest." With that, Ryan flipped his phone shut before tossing it onto the passenger seat. Now all he had to do was figure out how he was going to make this one opportunity count. He had a very spicy recurring dream to actualize that he was finding himself hoping it turned into something more. _Strange_, Ryan thought to himself, _how the most mundane of circumstances, a car accident, could potentially change your life forever_.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Parked outside Marissa's design studio, Ryan shut his car door before jauntily walking up to the business, gift in hand, a smile on his face, and a whistle on his lips. If he had been paying attention, he would have realized that her car was nowhere in sight, but he was early and eager to see her, hoping, perhaps to catch her off her guard in a favorably compromising position…maybe even changing. Since that last Friday when he had started having fantasies about her, it was as if she was the very air he needed to breathe, he craved her so much. Never had he wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Marissa Cooper, but he had a feeling she would be difficult to capture. She was too confident, too successful to not play hard to get, but the thought of the chase, the thought of having to actually make her fall for him and not give in just because he was good looking or had money, made her even more attractive to him.

Entering the waiting room of the office, he noticed just how successful and talented she was. The décor was not pretentious or uncomfortably chic, but livable and welcoming while still being aesthetically pleasing to the eye. He was impressed, but realized that he had no reason to be surprised. One look at her the day they had their accident had told him she had good taste, was stylish, put together, brilliant, and artistic. She put the same amount of care into her own personal appearance as she did her work.

"May I help you," a chipper voice disturbed his thoughts, breaking into his silent revelry about the woman he was going on a date with that night. _I know that voice,_ Ryan thought to himself as he turned around to face the person who had just spoken to him.

"And you must be Marissa's secretary," he greeted the petite, rather plain, brunette sitting at a desk in front of him as he crossed the room to shake her hand. "I'm Ryan Atwood….Marissa's date tonight."

Returning his greeting, she replied, "Renetta," as she took his hand in a firm, friendly grasp, "but I had already assumed who you were." Laughing, she motioned towards her computer. "Marissa was not her normal, hard working self today," she confessed. "You could definitely say something…..or someone had her very distracted, so I had quite a bit of time to sit around here with nothing to do, so, I googled you."

"Find out anything interesting," he questioned, returning her laughter.

"I don't know; the jury is still out on that one," she admitted. "I guess time will tell. What I learned by looking your name up was just statistics and facts. I think I'll wait for more personal evidence of your character before I make my final judgment."

"Well played," Ryan returned to her, respecting the woman sitting in front of him. She obviously cared enough for her boss to look out for her. _A good friend,_ he surmised. Changing the subject, he lowered his voice. "Now, tell me more about this strange behavior Marissa displayed today. What exactly was she doing?"

Smirking at him, she shook her head in an amused fashion. "Nice try, but that information is strictly confidential. Now, if you'll just wait, I'm sure Marissa will be here soon."

"Be here soon," he questioned her, surprised. "You mean she's not here?"

"Are you serious," Renetta giggled. "She went home after lunch to get ready for tonight. You have her quite distracted and nervous." Looking around her apprehensively before continuing although Marissa was not there, she turned back to him and whispered. "Do not tell her I told you this, but it's been quite a while since she's been on a date. She's always all work and no play, but there's just something different about you, I guess."

Smiling, Ryan replied, "And for that, you get to go home early." Before the secretary could protest, he continued. "Don't worry about Marissa, I'll handle her if she says anything about you leaving without her permission, but, to be honest with you, I would rather start this date with just the two of us, and a buffer that comes in the shape of a very devoted secretary definitely does not fit with my ideal plans for the evening."

"I can't leave a stranger here….alone! There are valuable things here, that, currently, I am responsible for," she argued.

"Come on, Renetta," Ryan pleaded. "It's not as if you don't have enough information on me after your little search online to track me down if even a paperclip comes up missing. Plus," he pointed out, "Marissa should be here any minute. It's almost 5:00, so I wouldn't have time to clean the place out before she got here anyway." Giving her his most winning, trusting, convincing smile, he turned the charm up to its highest notch and then continued. "Besides, I think you want Marissa to be happy, to actually find a boyfriend, and, I'll confess, I'm already gone on her. Give me a proper chance to win her over as well."

Rolling her eyes, Renetta stood up, grabbed her purse, and made her way towards the door to leave. Just as she went to open it though, she stopped, turning around to face Ryan one more time. "I think she could very easily fall for you, too….if you treat her right." Opening the door, she continued on her way out, calling a warning over her shoulder. "I'll be watching you, so you better not hurt her." And with that she was gone, and Ryan was left alone to wait for Marissa.

It didn't take him long to make his way into Marissa's office. Although he told himself he was just going to sit in there and wait for her, refusing his urges to snoop around the room and find out more personal information about the girl who had not only wrecked into his car but his life, mind, and heart as well; he had no willpower though, and within five minutes, he was wandering around her office, looking at the various personal mementos she had displayed, picking up framed photographs of the people, he assumed, she cared the most for in her life, and getting to know her a little better, knick knack by knick knack.

The first thing he noticed was her framed diploma from the Design Institute of San Diego and the photo that hung underneath it. Looking at the picture, he saw her standing with an older woman, a still very attractive older woman whom she resembled. _Must be her Mom,_ he thought to himself as he continued to gaze at the two women. Their arms were wrapped around each other, smiles dancing across their faces illuminating Marissa's excitement over her accomplishment, graduating from college, and the older woman's pride in her daughter. Leaving that picture, he continued his way around the room. The good looking, older woman who resembled Marissa, presumably her mother, was in many of the photos, but there was never a man with them. _So she doesn't have a relationship with her father either,_ Ryan recognized. Although the thought of her being abandoned by her Dad made him angry, _how could anyone just leave her behind,_ he was comforted by the fact that they appeared to be more and more alike with every little thing he learned about her.

The other pictures did not tell him much about her. There were various group shots, mainly friends he presumed, but the others in the pictures faded away so that his only focus was upon Marissa. He could not get enough of her, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed at someone or something in the pictures, the way her smile made him feel as if he had known her his whole life, the way her kind gaze told him he could trust her. He probably would have just kept looking at the pictures, staring at her in them, if something else had not caught his eye. Picking up the travel folder on her desk, he opened it after glancing around the front waiting room to make sure she wasn't there yet.

"She's going to Paris….alone," he said to himself out loud to the empty room. Flipping through the information, he looked for the date of her trip, and his eyes lit up when he noticed it was in two weeks. "I wonder what's so special about the first week of September," he mused, wandering his way to her day calendar. Scanning the dates, he found what he was looking for when, in bright purple pen, he found a 'Happy Birthday Me' scrawled out in her apparently perfect handwriting. Making a mental note of the information he had learned, he put the date book and travel folder back in their respective places and sat down in the chair in front of her desk, still holding her gift, his mind working feverishly. He was lucky though, for not a minute after he had sat down, he heard the front door open and her voice float through the office.

"Renetta," she said breathlessly, "I'm so sorry I'm late. Is he here yet?" He couldn't see what she was doing, for he just remained in his seat, but after a few seconds he heard her move her way towards her office calling for her secretary. As she rounded her way through the open doorway, he spoke up, slightly startling her.

"Sorry, no Renetta; just me. I sent her home, figured we could start this date out properly, just the two of us." Standing up from his chair, he moved towards her, gently leaning in to brush a gentle, friendly kiss on the apple of her blushed cheek. "You look beautiful," he complimented her honestly before handing her the gift he had brought her. "I know it's customary to bring your date flowers, but I thought flowers were too traditional for us, especially considering the way we met, so here you go."

Smiling up at him, she impatiently asked, "what is it," even before she had started to peel back the wrapping paper. Tossing the colorful sheets aside, she held the gift in her hands, a confused expression settling onto her furrowed brow. "You got me a handless headset for my cell phone? Is this some kind of joke?"

"No joke, that is a very serious gift." Laughing at her as she just continued to stare alternately between the puzzling present and his amused face, he explained. "I do not need you getting into any more of those fender benders. We don't know who'd you hit next, and I'm not taking the risk of you hitting another guy who would take advantage of the situation and ask you out like I did." Taking the box out of her hand, he put it down on her desk before turning back to her, letting his hand cup her face softly so she would look into his eyes. "I found you first, and I intend to do whatever I can to make sure you don't wreck your way into someone else's affections. But, that's enough of that," he dismissed his own confession, putting his arm around her waist and walking with her out of her office. "This is supposed to be a fun night, and, if we don't leave soon, we'll be late."

"Yeah, sorry about that," she apologized, an embarrassed flush covering her face. "I guess I was a few minutes late, huh?"

"That's alright," Ryan conceded, deciding he would tease her. "I understand you wanting to look your best for me."

"I what…..no….I don't think so," she stammered, going completely red out of humiliation and making it obvious that she was lying, badly, through her teeth. "I had personal errands to run….you know…..um….I had to pick up my dry cleaning, go to the store to pick up some groceries, take my Mom to a doctor's appointment. I was in no shape or form worried about this date."

"So you're telling me that's not a new dress," he teased her, knowing full well that he was mortifying her with his taunting and enjoying every minute of it. _She's even more adorable when she's shy,_ Ryan noticed. Tightening his grip around her waist, he continued to walk with her out of the store, chuckling softly to himself as he watched her blush just deepen the entire time they made their way to his car. _Tonight is going to be perfect._

"I can't believe this! First, we meet on this same exact freeway last Friday because I ran into you, and now, on our first date, just three days later, we're stuck in bumper to bumper traffic because there's been another accident, albeit this time a serious one, in almost the exact same place." Sighing dejectedly, she turned towards Ryan. "That's it, you and I, together, are never going near a car or this freeway together ever again!"

"That could make dating pretty difficult….unless you just want to meet at each others house from now on."

Turning to him, unable to keep the smile off of her face, she rolled her eyes before responding. "Are you always this forward with the women you take out, or is it just me who brings out this cheeky side of your personality, because I've got to tell you, you have made your intentions very clear today."

"I don't normally date," he admitted, moving his face closer to hers so that only a few inches separated them, gazing into her eyes determinedly the whole time. "I can normally get what I want without the promise of dinner and dancing."

"Oh, so that's what we're doing," she exclaimed excitedly. "You know a girl can tell a lot about a guy from the way he dances." Flirting with him, she continued, "the way he moves, whether or not he has rhythm, his stamina, how good of shape he's in. You're taking a big risk revealing this to me on the first date. What if you don't live up to my standards?"

"That is the one thing I can assure you won't be disappointed by," he said with confidence. "However," he added as he looked back at the never ending line of traffic in front of them and realized they were not going to be moving soon, "you might be disappointed in this date. If you give me a second chance though, a second date, I'll make it up to you."

Smiling at him wickedly, she replied, "we'll have to see about that second date, but, for now, I think this traffic could work to my advantage." Thinking for a moment, she turned towards him, a challenge in her lovely, laughing eyes. "I'll tell you what, if you can find a way to make this date unforgettable, and I don't mean in the 'worst date of your life' sense, if you can find a way to salvage this….and perhaps find me something to eat, I'll grant you that second date."

"I'll accept your challenge," he agreed, putting his hand out for her to shake, "and I can definitely find you some food, but, while I do, you have to tell me something about yourself."

"What," she inquired.

"Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows," he asked as he turned around to rummage through the tiny back seat of his car.

"Okay," she agreed, "let me think." After a few seconds, he turned back around, food in hand, but she was lost in thought, so he didn't say anything and just sat there and watched her share her story. "I was so lonely when I first moved away to college. For a while, when I was in high school, it was just me and my Mom, and, although we weren't close then, she was always around and I was never really alone. I knew that if I ever needed her, she would always be there for me, but then, all of a sudden, I was living in this unfamiliar city, surrounded with strangers, no friends, no family, no support system. So I would go and sit in these little cafes, home town diners, and I would just order a cup or tea or a milkshake, pull out the current book I was reading, and pretend to be absorbed in it while I really watched the other people around me. I would take in their appearance, how they would interact with the people they were with, and imagine what their lives were like, as if I really knew them. Once they left, they disappeared from my life and I never saw them again, but, while they were there, it was as if I wasn't quite as alone as I had been before. Eventually, I met some friends, and my Mom and I started to grow closer so we would talk all the time or visit each other, but, to this day, when I'm having a bad afternoon at work or I get depressed, I'll find a small, obscure little restaurant and loose myself in my imagination."

Finished, she turned towards him, a timid smile on her face to find him just watching her intently. "You think I'm really weird right now and have totally changed your mind about the second date, haven't you?"

"No, quite the opposite in fact," he admitted, his eyes suddenly glowing with admiration for the amazing woman sitting in front of him. "That might have just moved you into the top five most interesting people I've ever met group."

Giggling, she blushed and lowered her eyes. "Well, I aim to please." Looking back up at him, she motioned towards the various things to eat on his lap. "So, what did you find for our dinner?"

"It's not as impressive as the meal we would have gotten at the little seafood restaurant I was planning on taking you to, but it's better than nothing. We have power bars, fresh ones as I just put the new box in my gym bag Saturday morning, some extra cookies from the coffee shop I go to daily left over from my breakfast this morning…."

"Cookies for breakfast," she interrupted him, smiling widely, "that just made you move up on my list of favorite dinner companions. Is there anything else better in the morning than fresh from the oven, still warm, homemade cookies?"

"Favorite kind," he asked her.

"White macadamia nut," she answered. "Yours?"

"Oatmeal raison," he returned, showing her the proof as he opened the bag to reveal the few cookies remaining inside of it.

"Always a good choice," she agreed. "I like eating oatmeal raison on colder mornings. There's something that's just so….."

"Comforting about them," they both said at the same time, grinning when they realized they had the same thought.

Turning the conversation back to the food in Ryan's lap, she inquired, "what else did you find?"

"There's also an apple that I didn't have time to eat during my lunch this afternoon, because the jury came back so quickly, a couple packs of complimentary peanuts that I swiped from my last flight, and two bottles of warm water."

"Oh," Marissa exclaimed excited, reaching for her purse, "and, to top it all off, I have the after dinner mints," she revealed as she pulled out a container of tictacs. "It's not much but at least I'm contributing a little bit to this date."

"Trust me," Ryan flirted with her, "you're contributing more than you know."

Reaching for the apple, she took it from him and took a generous bite out of it before replying, "So, since I had to tell you something about me, Ryan Atwood, that no one else knows about, I think it's only fair that you return the favor. Tell me one of your secrets."

"This will probably come back and bite me in the ass someday," he admitted, shaking his head at the very idea of telling her his secret, "but alright. For the sake of total honesty, here it goes." Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I've always been able to hide it well, but I have this intense, run away and hide in a tiny ball, fear of dogs." When he noticed that Marissa did not even start to laugh at him, he relaxed somewhat and kept talking. "When I was….I don't know, six, seven maybe, I was walking home from school. My older brother was supposed to walk with me, to make sure I got home safely, but he never did anything he was supposed to do, and I was alone. I wasn't paying much attention, my nose was buried in a book, and before I knew it, I had come face to face with probably the biggest, most malicious dog in the history of the canine species. He either hated kids or E.B. White, because I'll never forget I was reading Stuart Little at the time, but he chased me the entire way home, nipping at my feet the whole time. From that day on, I've always hated and feared dogs." Risking it, he snuck a look at Marissa to see what her reaction was to his story and was surprised to see that she was annoyed.

"I hope your brother at least got in trouble for not walking you home," she blurted out angrily, making Ryan laugh.

"I never told my Mom," he explained. "Trey, that's my brother, and I had this deal. I would never tell on him for all the bad things he did if he would make sure his no-good friends left me alone. Trey….well, he was always destined to end up in prison," Ryan confessed. He couldn't believe that he was telling this girl, this woman whom he liked more and more as each minute went by, one of his darker secrets, the truth about how messed up his family was, on their first date. Admitting this to her could scare her away for good, but then he realized that if their relationship was going to go anywhere, if she was the woman he thought she was, then his family background would not matter to her – only he would. "He and his friends formed this gang when they were in middle school, always harassing other kids in the neighborhood, stealing things, dealing and doing drugs, and the older they got, the more serious their crimes were. He finally went to jail when I was fifteen; he was nineteen, and although I loved him because he was my brother, let's just say it was easier to breathe and feel safe once he was gone."

"My Dad should have gone to jail," she affirmed, wanting him to realize that she understood his feelings and that she did not judge him for it. "He stole a lot of money from his clients, but instead of facing his crimes, he sold the only house my Mom and I had known since I was a baby, paid back the money he took from his clients, and ran off leaving my Mom and I, homeless, broke, and desperate. If it wasn't for our neighbors who gave my Mom a job, who knows what would have happened to us."

"Same here," Ryan agreed with her, before elaborating upon his statement. "I mean, my Dad didn't steal money from his clients; he was never together enough to have a job let alone something prestigious enough where he would have clients, but he did run off and abandon us, just like your Dad." Smiling sheepishly at her, he revealed, "I have to admit that I figured something bad happened with your Dad when I noticed he was conspicuously missing from all of your photos in your office."

"You little snoop!" Giggling, Marissa turned towards him, smiling radiantly. "What else did you figure out about me from looking around my office?"

"Many things," he admitted, smirking at her. "For instance, you have a unique taste in music. I don't think I recognized the name of a single group in your CD collection."

"I don't call it a unique taste; I call it a good one," she shot back playfully, reaching for the sun visor in front her and flipping it down to look through his CD's. "And one that's much better than yours, so I wouldn't tease me about that, Mister."

Laughing, he continued, "Let's see, I also noticed that you keep a pair of slippers behind your desk. Someone obviously does not like wearing heels that much."

"Guilty as charged," she declared, pointing towards her feet and showing him that she had on flats. "But I now feel as if you have an unfair advantage over me. You've seen one of the most intimate spaces a person can have of mine, their office. What would yours reveal about you?"

"Hm….let me see," he pondered. "My office is pretty boring, little personal detail. In fact, I don't think that there is a single personal memento in it at all."

"Ugh," Marissa groaned, "I know what that means. You're probably a clean freak, completely anal and organized where every single little thing has its certain place it can't be moved from. Am I right?"

"I'll tell you what," Ryan suggested. "How about you meet me at my office for our second date, and I'll let you see it for yourself, so you can tell if you're right or not then?"

"On one condition," she bargained. "It's a deal if you give me the three left over cookies and take both of the power bars for yourself. I'm really not into health food."

Handing the bag of cookies to her, he agreed, smiling widely as he watched her devour the food quickly. So lost in each other, neither noticed the traffic any longer, and the fact that their first date was technically ruined was utterly forgotten. As the early evening hours passed by quickly, the sun setting behind the small, sports car in a sea of hot, jammed vehicles, the two, blonde, blue eyed, infatuated occupants on their first date got to know each other better, their sense of attraction growing into genuine, cautious feelings.

The green lights of the car's dash were glowing in the dusky twilight of the balmy Southern California evening, revealing to the driver and his date that it was already past 8:00 as they slowly approached the first exit off the freeway since the accident had occurred over two and half hours earlier. Though it was no where near where either of them needed to be going, they had agreed to get off of the highway and find their way through side roads to wherever the evening took them. His carefully laid, first date plans forgotten, the rest of the night was going to be spontaneous.

For some reason, Ryan, normally forward and suave, was being careful of his actions, not wanting to rush either Marissa or their relationship, and he had still yet tried to take her hand in his. They just sat there, talking quietly to each other, eyes fixated on the others, never wavering their gaze in intensity or attention.

"Favorite movie," Ryan asked her. They had been playing the favorites game for the past hour, and with each answer she gave, he found her even more unique and interesting.

"That's an easy one," she quickly replied, "Shakespeare in Love."

"I've never seen it," Ryan confessed.

Chuckling, she rolled her eyes at him. "Why does that not surprise me," but before he could interject anything, she continued. "We'll have to watch it together sometime."

"It's a date," he agreed audaciously, making her smile. When she just looked at him expectantly, he realized she was waiting for him to answer his own question. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh….I guess my favorite movie would have to be To Kill a Mockingbird. I remember reading the book in middle school, and, in fact, that's what made me want to be a lawyer."

"Yes, because Atticus was a real estate lawyer, too," she teased him, eliciting a playful glare.

"Not all of us are meant to be defense attorneys," he explained. "But anyway, because I liked the book so much, I had to see the movie, too, and, from the first time I watched it, all those years ago, it became my favorite."

"I've seen it before, but perhaps my memory needs refreshed," Marissa admitted. "We'll have a movie night, watch both of our favorite movies together one evening." His grin told her he liked the idea. "Now, my next question…..how about…..oh, I got one! What's your favorite celebrity crush?"

"You really like the hard questions, don't you," Ryan teased her, settling back in his seat to think about his answer for a moment. "Michelle Phiffer," he finally revealed. "The crush started years ago when I first saw Scarface, and it's never diminished."

Pleased, Marissa beamed, "oh, that's a good answer!"

"How is it ever a good answer to tell a woman you're on a date with that you're attracted to another woman?"

"Because," she explained, "I can see that you have good taste. She's a classic beauty, someone who ages gracefully, is talented, and it's somewhat of a compliment to me, because if you're attracted to the both of us, obviously we share some similar traits."

"You have her beat," he acknowledged, his ears turning an adorable shade of crimson.

"Aw," Marissa taunted, pinching his cheek in a decidedly flirtatious manner, "you're so cute when you're cheesy!"

"And embarrassed, so I think it's time you made a fool out of yourself, too," Ryan pushed her. "Who's your favorite celebrity crush?"

"It's so hard to choose just one when a girl has so many," Marissa continued to tease him, laughing gleefully when she saw him grimace at the idea, "but if I had to pick just one I'd have to go with Clive Owen. He's just…..yeah! I mean, he's talented, just like with Michelle Phiffer, but he's also gorgeous with those dark eyes and smoldering looks, and that accent…..oh my god, my knees go weak when I hear him talk!"

"Wow, Marissa, way to kill a guy's ego," Ryan deadpanned, making her snicker. "And how are you attracted to me at all? I don't think you could have picked someone who looked less like me even if you tried!"

"Trust me," she dismissed his concerns, "you have your own knee quaking attributes." Noticing the pleased expression on his face, his ego, once again, intact, she continued. "So, next question, please."

After a moment's thought, Ryan posed, "What was your favorite toy when you were growing up?"

"I think most people thought it was my Carebear," Marissa mused thoughtfully, but really it was my Glow-worm."

"A glow-worm?"

"It was this little doll I've had since I was a baby, and it would light up when you squeezed it, except I never liked having the batteries in it, because then it wasn't as soft to cuddle with."

"So," Ryan surmised, "you like to cuddle. There are definitely possibilities there." When she mock glared at him, he held up his hands in self defense and went to answer the question himself when her cell phone rang.

"I'm so sorry, Ryan," she apologized immediately, searching for the phone through her purse. "I normally turn these off when I'm out on a date or with friends, but I've been waiting on the answer from that interview I was running late for on Friday when I hit you." Finally finding her phone, she looked at the caller ID. "Oh my god, it's them," she shouted out, all of a sudden nervous and excited at the same time.

"Well, what are you waiting for," he pestered her, "answer it."

"You don't mind," she asked.

"Hell no! This is important to you, so it's important to me. Plus," he added impertinently, "I'd like to see if my generosity the day we met worked to your advantage, because it definitely would have been better for me to keep you around longer."

With a thankful smile in his direction, Marissa flipped her phone open. She wasn't on it long, and as he watched her the entire time, he was unsure of the news she was given for she showed no emotion. Merely nodding her head and answering the person on the other line's questions with yes and no responses, the entire conversation was over before he knew it, ending with her thanking the person who called her.

"So," he questioned, "did you get the job?"

What she did next, he was definitely not expecting. Smiling brightly, she turned to him, taking his face gently in her hands, running her fingers along the fine stubble starting to grow in on his jaw line, and kissed him tenderly. The moment their lips met, it was like his whole world exploded. She was delicious, soft, sweet, and sensual, everything he had imagined she would be but more. From that moment on, he knew that he wanted more than just the realization of his fantasy to come true. He wanted all of her.

After a moment, she pulled away, much too quickly for Ryan's taste, out of breath and exuberant. "Thank you," she said elatedly. "Thank you for letting me go last Friday, thank you for this amazing date…even though it was nothing like either of us expected, and thank you for letting me go home now instead of continuing the date."

Confused, it took him a moment to comprehend what she had just said. "Excuse me, what," he finally managed to question, tripping over his words as he had still yet to recover from the kiss she had so unexpectedly given him. "What do you mean letting you go home?"

"I got the job," she admitted, a graceful smile curling her lips into the most beautiful expression Ryan had ever seen. "And I have to get started immediately. They want preliminary sketches in less than three weeks, and, because of other, prior commitments that I have," _the trip to Paris,_ Ryan realized silently to himself,"I'll be working around the clock for the next week to get them done on time. So, as much as I've enjoyed this date and want to go on another one with you, it'll have to wait for a few weeks, and I wanted to thank you upfront for being so understanding about it." At the last part of her statement, she giggled at his dejected expression, tenderly running her hand down his cheek one last time as if trying to reassure him that there would be the second date she had promised.

As he pulled off the freeway, turning his car to take her back to her office building, he turned briefly to look at her when he asked his next question. "So then when will I see you next?"

"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully. "But I do want to see you again, so I'll call you when I'm free. You'll just have to exercise some self-control and wait for when I'm ready."

"Patience is not really a virtue I'm known for," he replied, finally taking her left hand in his free, right one, kissing it softly before talking again. "But I'll see what I can do….for you."

For the rest of their ride back to her car and the design studio, they sat in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing covert glances at each other the entire time. Parking, he got out and opened her door for her, taking her hand to help her get out. Walking her to her car, she spoke up. "Actually, I think I'm going to stay here and work for a while, so if you could walk me to my studio door, I'd appreciate it."

"You know, I could always stay here, keep you company, and help you," he suggested playfully, knowing full well that she'd never agree to any such thing.

"Yeah, and I can imagine just how much work I'd get done," Marissa responded with what would be the final laugh he would hear from her that night. Suddenly serious, she turned her eyes up to meet his as they stopped outside of her studio. "I had a great time tonight, Ryan Atwood."

"And I had an even better time, Marissa Cooper." Just as she had done to him, he tenderly cupped her delicate face in his strong, capable hands and took her lips in a decadently delicious kiss, savoring the feeling of her so close to him, knowing he wouldn't get to experience it again for several weeks. When neither of them could remain in their embrace for a moment longer, he pulled away, suddenly getting an idea. "Until another run in," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Holding her hand for as long as he could as he walked away, he finally let go when he reached the edge of the sidewalk, keeping their gazes locked together until he neared his car. Waving one last time, he watched to make sure she made it inside safely, before climbing into his car and speeding off in the distance, the clever, slightly sneaky wheels in his mind working the entire time. _Ironic_, Ryan thought to himself, _how the worst possible date imaginable with the perfect person can turn into the best date of your life._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

She knew it was wrong. She shouldn't sneak through the house like this, curious to see what was going on, but things had seemed off all week, not a bad off….just different. So far though, her planned surprise drop in had yielded no answers. The car was parked in the driveway, the house clean, nothing out of place, nothing giving away any clues as to why she had a feeling that since the last time they had seen each other or talked, something drastic had happened, something life altering, and it scared her. If it, whatever it was, was that important, why wasn't she told? Sighing, and clutching the card and bag of take out she was holding in her hand, she followed the muffled noises and soft music to the bedroom, pushing the door open to reveal a disaster zone.

Laughing, she exclaimed, "what are you doing? You're not moving without telling me, right, because I think every single piece of clothing you own is strewn about this room."

At the sound of her voice, a startled scream erupted in the small, enclosed space making the woman laugh once again. "Guess you weren't expecting me."

"Well no, Mom," Marissa exclaimed clutching her chest as her heart rate slowly returned to its customary pace. "Normal people announce their presence when they arrive somewhere….say by ringing the doorbell. As far as I know, the idea is not a foreign concept, even for you."

"I'm sorry, but I was trying to catch you."

"Catch me," Marissa asked out loud, confused. "Catch me doing what? Packing, because that's what I'm doing."

"No, I knew you would be packing. You always wait until the last minute to pack when you're going away and then freak out and go to pieces because you think that you don't have any clothes….though this panic attack is slightly more extreme than any of your previous fits. I'm actually here to catch you doing something different….something that would give me a clue as to where my quiet, hard working, focused daughter has gone off to and who this smiling, erratic, scatterbrained, glowing woman before me is." Putting her hand out, she continued to tease Marissa. "My name is Julie. Who are you?"

"Very funny, Mom," the blushing, embarrassed younger woman replied, turning her back towards Julie as she returned to work on her practically empty suitcase. "And as for my secret, I'm not telling."

"Then I guess I won't give you your birthday present. And it's such a shame, too, because I'm sure it would come in handy when you're in Paris, at Chanel, fighting an inner battle with yourself because the perfect dress you found is more than you budgeted to spend on clothes but you just have to have it."

"You didn't," Marissa squealed, turning around and embracing her mother in a tight hug, the smile across her face as big as Julie had ever seen it.

"I did, and if you would relax, release me from your suffocating clutches, though I always appreciate a hug from my beautiful girl, let me take over packing for you, and tell me this obviously juicy secret you have, I'll let you stare at the gift certificate until it's time to eat." When Marissa did as Julie advised, she maneuvered her daughter to a chair, pulling the clothes off of it before she pushed her down to sit, moving back towards the bed surveying the mess around her, taking stock of what she had to work with for the week long, Parisian wardrobe. "I don't know why you didn't just ask me to pack your bag for you in the first place. You know that no one knows you better than me." Choosing to put simple, basic, easily accessorized items into the carry on bag, Julie waited for Marissa to answer her question, but as the quiet strains of a song that was unknown to her filled the room, it became obvious that her daughter was lost in fantasies of haute couture. "Marissa," she finally said sharply, gaining her daughter's attention, "are you ready to tell me what's going on with your life, what has you so excited."

"In a minute, Mom," but before Julie could protest, Marissa continued. "This gift certificate….it's just way too generous. I can't accept it."

"You can either take it and buy yourself whatever you want in Paris with it, or I'll take it to a Chanel boutique here and pick out your birthday present myself. Either way, that full amount of the gift certificate will be spent on my daughter for her birthday."

Smirking at her Mother, Marissa asked, "I don't stand a chance of winning this one, do I?"

"Sweetheart," Julie teased, "you've already lost. Now, tell me what has been going on with you. I haven't seen you looking this happy since….well, I really don't remember the last time you looked this happy."

"That's because I don't think I've ever felt like this before," Marissa confessed, standing up and twirling around the room like an innocent, playful child. "Everything is just absolutely perfect right now, Mom. I got the hotel job I interviewed for, we've never had a stronger relationship, I'm going to Paris, and….."

"And what," Julie asked, turning around, her anticipation clearly written on her face.

Smiling to herself, lost in her own world and dreams, Marissa collapsed on her bed, clutching her hands together over her heart. "And I've finally met someone."

_Why couldn't I get bumped up to first class…even business class,_ Marissa grumbled silently to herself, hating the cramped, claustrophobic quarters of coach. In order to stay in a four star hotel, she had been forced to make sacrifices in other areas of her trip's itinerary, forcing her into the uncomfortable, unstylish, ungraceful quarters of coach. _Damn it,_ she started complaining to herself again, _it's my birthday this week after all! You'd think that American Airlines would want to give me a present, too._

Rolling her eyes in complaint, she struggled with her carry on, pushing and prodding it into its overhead compartment. Unfortunately, the stewardesses were busy with other passengers, and, despite her annoyance with her seat, she preferred having to struggle on her own than ask for help. Ultimately, no matter what the situation, Marissa was always independent and stubborn. When it felt as if the suitcase was finally in place, she gave it one last shove to ensure it wouldn't fall, but just as she went to pull away, her hand still entangled with the handle, she felt someone collide into her, practically knocking her off her feet, her unbalanced stance as she caught herself before tumbling over into an uncoordinated pile of pent of aggravation pulling the suitcase out of its compartment only to land right on top of her legs.

"Ugh, could this trip start out any worse," Marissa lamented, struggling to stand up as she kicked her suitcase out of her legs' way. "It's six o'clock in the freaking morning, I'm tired, I'm now bruised, I'm hungry, I'm caffeine deprived, and I'm…." her voice drifted off as she finally looked up into the face of the person…the man who had caused her to fall in the first place, fall both literally and figuratively for him. Too shocked to speak, she merely stared at his smug face for several seconds, finally regaining her ability to talk only to stumble over her words. "Wh….what….you…..I mean…..how….Paris?"

"You know," he responded, "I've always heard it's the most romantic city in the world, but until recently, I'd never had any ambition to go there. Would you like me to…" he offered, pointing to her carry on that was still resting, unceremoniously, in the middle of the aisle, not waiting for an answer before picking it up and easily sliding it into the overheard compartment. "It's quite a coincidence running into you though. One could say it's almost….. providence."

"Providence," Marissa grumbled, standing up with his help when he held out his hands for her, "you're showing your penchant for outdated literature again."

"Good literature is never outdated."

"Yeah, but the language it uses does eventually become obsolete, and providence," she taunted, "I don't even think my 82 year old neighbor uses that word anymore."

"I'll tell you what," he offered, ushering Marissa into her seat and taking the one beside her, playing along with her flirtatious banter, "I'll let you mock my vocabulary as much as you want if you and I go for a rendezvous in the women's bathroom back there and join the mile high club."

"Yeah, nice try," she chuckled, turning away from him to look out her window, the smile she wanted so badly to keep off of her face sneaking on anyway.

"Fine," he relented, "I guess I'll settle for making out for the whole flight, but," he stipulated, "you better have good lung capacity."

"I don't think so."

Giving in again, he offered, "how about you can make fun of me all you want in exchange for one good, long, make your eyes roll back into your head kiss?"

"Nope."

"How about this offer," he tried again. "You can mock me and my choice of words for hours upon hours for just a single, tiny, quick, blink and you'll miss it peck on the cheek?"

"No," Marissa finally exploded, unable to control her amused giggles. "Now, if you would kindly start thinking with your brain instead of…..other parts of your anatomy, would you please tell me what you're doing here, Ryan, how you just so happened to be on the same exact flight as me, seated beside me, when we're both on our way to Paris?"

"Honestly," he asked her, raising his eyebrows in anticipation.

"Honestly," she repeated, agreeing with his sentiment.

"I'm here because it's your birthday. It's your birthday and you were planning on going to Paris alone, the city, as I've already mentioned, of love, and there was no way I was going to risk you running into some smug, accented, dark, mysterious Frenchman in your rental car only to hear in three weeks time that you eloped."

Smirking at him, she said, "I didn't get a rental car, but that's beside the point. How did you know about my trip and that it's for my birthday?" Noticing his blush and how he avoided her eyes, she suddenly realized the answer to her own question. "You little snoop!" He had looked through her desk.

The plane ride went quickly for both Ryan and Marissa. Resisting his teasing advances, they had mutually decided to play cards, gin rummy to be exact, the winner allowed to ask the looser any question they wanted, guaranteed to get an honest answer. It had proved to be quite insightful for both of them.

Marissa had learned that Ryan was very particular about his laundry, insisting that he iron it himself, that he didn't know how to swim but had always wanted to learn, that he liked to dip his Oreos in chocolate milk instead of white, that he was a good dancer, only because he had been forced into taking a ball room dancing course to fulfill his gym credits in college, that he was a registered democrat, that he wore boxer-briefs, something she found quite intriguing, that he still had his favorite baby blanket from when he was a toddler packed away with his other childhood memories, that he had smashed his little toe on his right foot when he was 22, moving into his apartment in San Francisco during law school, and the toenail had never grown back, that he never could figure out how to work is tivo, and that he preferred to sleep in the nude, a fact that made it difficult for Marissa to concentrate on their next game.

In turn, Ryan had learned many new, interesting things about her as well. Embarrassing her, he had returned her question about underwear, learning that she didn't have one particular preference but altered her choice to fit the situation or her mood, revealing that she had packed only French cut for her Parisian trip. He had also found out that she had a strange, unhealthy penchant for jewelry shopping channels, especially late at night when nothing was on and she couldn't sleep, that she ate her ice cream out of the container and refused to use bowls, that she preferred her corny, cartoon slippers over the expensive, designer ones her Mom had bought her two years before for Christmas, that she kept a mini-fridge in her bedroom so that when she was thirsty late at night, she didn't have to get out of bed for a cold drink, that she wore glasses to read when no one else was around, suffering through her vanity when someone was, that she hated going to the dentist and constantly cancelled her own appointments so she wouldn't have to go, that she was allergic to penicillin, that she swore she had spotted her first gray hair two weeks before, and that it was her right breast that was bigger than the other. The last question had elicited a few complaints, but, because of the rules, she had begrudgingly answered.

Many card games, two quick, cat naps for both of them, and one in-flight movie after they had taken off from LAX, they had arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport, exhausted, starving, and eager to be off of the plane. While Ryan, ever the gentlemen trying to impress the object of his affection, carried not only his own luggage but Marissa's as well off of the plane, she was lost in thought, curious as to what was going to happen now. Were they going to part with promises to meet up during the upcoming week? Did they just go their separate ways and share their vacation stories a week later on the return flight home? There had been nothing in Marissa's life to prepare her for such a perplexing second date….if you could call it that, so she just decided to wait and see what happened. She was on vacation after all; it was time to throw caution to the wind and let Ryan's beloved providence take over.

He had confused her though. She had assumed he would insist that they take the same cab into the city, so he could prolong their time together, continuing to harass her, flirting and teasing her strong will into submission, but he had said goodbye, actually shook her hand in the process, loaded her suitcase into her cab for her, and then walked off to hail his own taxi. Because of this, her mind had been sent on a tailspin, and before she knew it, she had arrived at her hotel, The Hotel Royal Monceau, only to step out of the vehicle to be confronted with the most intriguing pair of crystal blue eyes staring right back at her.

Silently, they had walked into the hotel together, checking in separately, not a word shared between them, before strolling, side by side, their carry on suitcases being taken to their rooms by the bellmen, to the elevators. Unable to take the suspense and uncertainty any longer, she turned to him, flustered and embarrassed.

"What is this….what's happening between us right now?"

"We're on our second date," Ryan answered her calmly as if it was obvious, watching her face intently the entire time they talked.

Snorting in exasperation, she exclaimed, "a week long second date!"

"Exactly," he agreed, moving to stand behind her. Languidly, his hands moved up and down her arms, tickling her exposed skin as his slightly rough, warm fingertips caressed her body greedily, his touch immediately leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. "You see," he continued, "I decided the night of our first date that a few hours with you just wasn't enough."

"And your room," Marissa breathed out, the sensations his body was eliciting in hers making it difficult for her to speak.

"Right next to yours….but, if you want, I would be open to sharing a room…sharing a bed."

Just as she felt herself being pulled under by the sensual tones of his voice and the erotic whisperings of his fingers, the elevator made a soft noise letting them know they had arrived at their floor, breaking through the spell Ryan had woven over Marissa, and bringing her crashing back to reality. Jumping away from him, she walked backwards down the hall quickly, speaking in a rush the entire time. "I don't think so. I'll agree to spend the days with you, even the early part of the nights, but we will be sleeping in separate rooms and beds the entire trip." When he went to protest, she stopped him. "And do not even attempt to change my mind, because you'll be wasting your breath." With that, she disappeared into her room.

Paris was magical….Ryan was magical, and before Marissa knew it, it was already Tuesday evening and they only had two more days left together in their own little slice of Parisian heaven. It seemed as if they had just gotten there, and she had no idea where the past five days had gone.

Although she had insisted that she was tired the evening they had arrived in Paris, telling Ryan that she would just order room service and go to be early so as to be up and ready to go early the next morning, he had dismissed her 'unadventurous spirit' as he had called it and had surprised her with a detailed, planned itinerary for them. Although he had never gone to Paris before, he was adamant that she have the time of her life, that she deserved the best trip he could help give her, so, without telling her where they were going, he took her, their first night there, to the Montparnasse Tower, where they had dined on the 56th floor before spending the rest of the evening on the observation terrace. He had teased her that any American visitor could think of looking at Paris at night from the Eiffel tower, but it took a man with a flair for the unexpected to view it from the roof of a skyscraper. Knowing she would insist upon seeing the Eiffel Tower anyway, he promised that it would come later in their week when they would visit all the clichéd tourist attractions, but for that night, their first night in Paris together, he wanted it to be eccentric and unique. It was exactly that, but more; it had been perfect in Marissa's eyes. She had no idea how long they had stayed there, she merely resting in Ryan's arms, savoring the feeling of his body keeping her warm as the crisp, early autumnal air whipped around their mesmerized faces. Exhausted, they had walked back to their hotel together, hand in hand, saying goodnight in the hallway with just a soft, gentle kiss on the cheek.

Because the next day, Saturday, had flawless weather and so that the thing Ryan was dreading could be accomplished and pushed off the to-do list, Marissa had gone shopping the entire day, agreeing that she wouldn't even ask to go inside of another fashion store if he would grant her one day of complaint free shopping. It actually ended up working out for both of them though, because while Marissa, with starry eyes, wandered in what appeared to be an aimless fashion to Ryan but made perfect sense to her around the famous Chanel boutique on The Avenue Montaigne, Ryan had been able to sneak off and buy her birthday present. Many hours after their start at the crack of dawn, they had returned to their hotel looking forward to a relaxing night in together, eating room service in her room and watching French tv while attempting to figure out what they were saying, before going to bed separately in their own rooms, both the French economy and Marissa's closet thrilled beyond words after her rather significant shopping excursion.

Ryan, claiming fatigue from the day before, asked for a respite and took Marissa for a surprise day in The Woods of Vincennes, The People's Park the next day, where they not only toured the Parc Floral but also shared a decadent picnic on the banks of a glass-like pond, meandered contentedly along the winding paths of the garden as only new lovers could, took a leisurely row on the lake, Marissa giggling the entire time as she fed the attention loving ducks, and falling asleep in each others arms, the sun warming their entwined bodies and lulling them into a sense of bliss. Everything in its simplicity had been delightful for the both of them, only to be followed up by an evening stroll through the Latin Quarter, dinner at a quaint little bistro as the sounds of the art district floated around them, entertaining conversation as they window shopped, and a truly romantic goodnight kiss in the center of the Place de l'Etoile, the twinkle lights along the avenue of trees bordering the Champs-Elysees casting a subtle glow upon the couple lost in each other and their passionate embrace.

Monday had been the start of their traditional exploration of the city as Ryan led Marissa on a tour of Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, The Arc de Triomphe, and The Basilica of the Sacre Coeur. For a treat that night, Ryan had surprised Marissa with dinner at the Plaza Athenee Hotel, perhaps the most opulent place Marissa had ever seen in her life. Dressed in a tux, he had escorted her to the restaurant wearing one of her new, breathtaking dresses, their emotions and obvious adoration and feelings for each other proudly displayed on their smiling faces. That night it had been harder to part at their doors to go to sleep in their separate rooms. Time passed by quickly as a simple, sweet kiss turned into many, their desire for each other heightened not only by the champagne they had consumed at dinner but by the amorous affections that they each were quickly discovering they held for the other.

That day, Tuesday, had seen them continuing their traditional tour of the famous, historical city as Ryan guided Marissa through The Louvre, Versailles, The Musee Picasso, and The Musee Rodin. She had loved Versailles, the luscious interiors even grander than she had imagined after studying it in college, while Ryan was surprised by how much he enjoyed watching Marissa experience things she truly loved. Seeing her in Versailles made him want to someday just simply watch her work, admiring her effortless taste and dedication to beauty. Agreeing that it would be fun to experience a French club, they had shared a quick meal in one of their hotel's restaurants, going back to their rooms to shower and change before meeting in the hallway to leave together.

As Marissa gathered the few things she would need to take with her, money, her hotel room card, and gum, she went over their plans for the next day, smiling softly to herself. Ryan had informed her over dinner that the next day, Wednesday, would be their last day for tradition tourist attractions, that he had something special planned for Thursday, just for her, because that was actually her birthday. They were going to The Musee National d'Art Moderne, The Pompidou Centre, and The Musee d'Orsay the next day only to finish their evening at the opera. What they were doing Thursday though, she had no clue.

Closing the door behind her, she was surprised when Ryan was not waiting for her outside of her room. Normally, he was always ready before her. Curious, she made her way to his door, meaning to knock and get his attention, but when she went to softly rapt her knuckles upon the ornate entrance to his room, it was already ajar. Shrugging her shoulders, she pushed it open only to be confronted with a sight she was not expecting, a sight that immediately made her angry. Pain would come later after her white hot rage subsided.

"Marissa, I can explain," Ryan immediately spoke up, earning himself a cold, furious glare from his girlfriend. "This is not what it looks like."

"You're right," Marissa agreed with him, her tone one of sarcasm and disbelief, "because it couldn't be the guy who followed me half way around the world after only one date to the most romantic city in the world, the guy who has spent this whole week sweeping me off my feet and making me fall for him….hard, the guy who seemed to only have eyes for me could not be standing in his room, smiling and laughing with a beautiful hotel employee, because that would just be preposterous!"

"Okay, so maybe it does look like that," Ryan conceded, "but we didn't do anything wrong."

Speaking up for the first time, the embarrassed, slightly bewildered manager, turned towards the irritated woman confronting them. "I was just trying to help him…."

"Oh, trust me," Marissa interrupted, rolling her eyes, "I do not want to know what you were helping him with. Thanks for the offer, but I just ate, and anything you could be possibly helping him with would undoubtedly make me sick."

Striding over to her quickly, Ryan took Marissa gently by the arms, forcing her to look at him. "This is ridiculous, Marissa. I'm not going to let a stupid misunderstanding like this ruin our night, our trip, or what we're building between us."

"A little misunderstanding, that's the understatement of the year," Marissa mumbled under her breath, so absorbed in her argument with Ryan that she never noticed the female hotel staff member slipping out of the room.

"Listen to me….or rather," Ryan began, moving both he and Marissa further into his room, "just feel it for yourself. I was hot this afternoon when we got back to our rooms, so I turned my air conditioning on, but now I can't get it to turn off. I called down to the front desk to see if they could send someone up to look at it before I went to take my shower, and, just my luck, they arrived when I was getting out."

"And you couldn't be bothered to put on something a little more substantial than a towel," Marissa asked, the chilly nature of the room making her realize that he was telling her the truth.

"Well, to be honest," he replied smiling roguishly at her, "after the afternoon we had…and that elevator ride up to our rooms after dinner, I was kind of hoping it was you."

"That's a pretty good excuse," she conceded, granting herself a long, generous look at his towel clad body, "and your state of undress is working to your advantage now, because it's hard to stay mad at you when you're dressed…..or rather undressed like that, but from now on, use your peep holes before answering a door practically naked."

"We're in a four star hotel, Marissa. The doors don't have peep holes."

"Oh…yeah, I guess that could a problem."

Chuckling at her confused expression, he kissed her softly on the cheek before walking into the bathroom to finish getting ready. "I'll be out in a few minutes and then we can get going to the club."

"And I'll have the central air in this room checked for you, Mr. Atwood," the hotel manager spoke up once it was obvious the argument between the couple was over. Joining her in the hallway, Marissa quietly shut the door behind her as she stood to wait for Ryan so they could leave. "Just to let you know," the French woman said with a sly grin on her face, "even if your boyfriend had been my type, which, just to reassure you, he was definitely not, because I don't really go for that whole arrogant, confident, annoyingly smug American flirt, you can rest assured. He only has eyes for you." Laughing softly to herself at the pleased expression on the woman's face, the manager walked way, thankful that an awkward situation had been avoided, leaving Marissa alone to think.

_It's a good thing,_ she mused to herself, _because I'm afraid I already feel the same away about him. _And she intended to show him just that while they danced together at the club, her body expressing the feelings she was not ready to say yet with words.

"I think your gift will help explain where I got my idea for one of the sights we toured today," Ryan confessed, handing Marissa a delicately wrapped, medium sized package. They had spent the afternoon touring two obscure, relatively unknown Paris museums, The Musee du Parfum-Fragonard and the Musee Galliera, Musee de la Mode de la Ville de Paris, the first displaying the art of perfume making that extended back in history over 5,000 years and the second a palace that showcased the history of fashion and costume. Marissa had been thrilled, her elated expression reminding Ryan of a child's when their secret wish had been granted. "While you were in seventh heaven….a place otherwise known as Chanel, I snuck out and wandered quickly through the store until I found the fragrance museum, and that's where I found this."

"Well that sort of gives the gift away, Ryan," Marissa laughed as she unwrapped the glass bottle containing a soft golden essence.

"Aw, but that's where you're wrong. You see," Ryan explained, taking the bottle from her and opening it so that he could delicately apply some of the perfume to her regal, succulent neck, a neck he longed to let his lips linger over. "The present isn't really that I bought you perfume, that would be a common gift that any guy could give you, but this is a scent I made myself, a scent created from various ingredients that remind me of you." Leaning in, he let his breath tickle her ear before moving his nose down to gently nudge where he had just applied the perfume. Speaking softly, his voice low and husky with desire, he described the various elements to the fragrance, elements that were so effortlessly blending together on her smooth, supple skin to taunt him into submission. "There's vanilla and brown sugar to remind me of the fact that you love cookies, a strong flavor of apples, because whenever I think of our first date, I see you laughing and talking, your mouth biting into the fruit, it's aroma filling my car, and cinnamon, for whenever I think of being close to you, of your body pressed up to mine, that scent is always pervading my mind, clouding it over in lust and desire."

It took Marissa a moment to regain her ability to talk, swallowing thickly several times, her eyes closed in ecstasy the entire time his words were seducing her. "But I've never had cinnamon breath when we were that close," she questioned him, curious as to where he came up with that memory. Teasing him and regaining control of the situation, she pressed. "Did you mix another girl's signature smell into my special, birthday perfume?"

Instantly, Ryan blushed a deep, embarrassed red. He had not intended to reveal that much, but now he was trapped. He could either confess the truth or risk either offending or hurting Marissa, neither reaction an option.

"The weekend after our accident, before I even called you for our first date, I kept having this recurring dream," he finally spoke up, his voice quiet as his eyes strayed away from hers. Seeing him suddenly so shy and self-conscious made Marissa smile even more, tenderly reaching out to take his hands in hers and kissing them lightly. "In it, we….um….you know…..made love, and I remember distinctly that your breath smelled like cinnamon. It was so strong, so distinct in the dream, that I can still smell it right now if I think back to it."

Wanting to make him feel comfortable again, Marissa leaned in close to Ryan's ear, her breath warming his neck just as his had done to her moments before. Whispering, she confided, "I use cinnamon toothpaste," delighting Ryan. Just as he went to kiss her, there was a knock on her hotel room door, breaking their moment and making him get up. Their dinner had arrived.

They spent the rest of the night together, eating their meal, dancing slowly wrapped in each others arms, the moon and street lights the only things illuminating the room, locked in an endless embrace, their lips tangled so closely neither wanted to ever separate again. It had been the perfect way to spend their last night in Paris together, the perfect way to celebrate Marissa's birthday. Parting that night with one last kiss, they said goodnight, Marissa watching Ryan's retreating figure until he disappeared into his own room before she changed her clothes and climbed into bed, prepared to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but what seemed like hours later, the luxurious sheets and duvets tossed restlessly aside as she stared out into the darkness in front of her, Marissa was still awake.

Unable to think of anything else to do, she picked up her room key and quietly entered the dimly hit hallway, the opulent chandeliers turned low to accommodate the sleeping guests. She had no idea what time it was; her only goal was to perhaps walk long enough to tire out her body so that it would collapse into slumber. Watching her feet as she walked, she never noticed someone exiting their room in front of her, running right into them carelessly. Looking up into a set of eyes she was getting to know better than her own, she was met with a wide awake Ryan, smirking at her because, once again, they had 'run into' each other at the most opportune of times.

She didn't know what came over her, afterwards stating that, once again, Ryan's trusted providence had stepped in and decided their future for them, but whatever the cause, she had thrown caution to the wind, silently taking Ryan's hand in hers, and leading him back to her room. That night, their final night in Paris together, just as their second date was concluding as Ryan would always say, Marissa Cooper let down the final barrier to her heart, admitting to herself and the man she was dating through their passionate embraces as they completely gave themselves to each other that she, in a matter of weeks, had fallen head over heals in love with him. Falling asleep in his arms, cocooned tightly against his naked body, she knew he felt the same way.

The next morning, as they walked out of their hotel, hand and hand, sharing a cab back to the airport, they left Paris officially a couple, in lust and in love, on their way back to a world where their two separate lives would become one, both curious to see how the next 'run in' would forever shape their relationship.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dawn Atwood gazed into her son's face, studying the smile he couldn't seem to wipe off and the joy that radiated from his eyes, in awe. It marveled her sometimes when she looked back at their lives, how much they had changed. She could vividly remember the day he was born, arriving too late at the hospital to receive an epidural. He came into the world after a difficult delivery only to face the cruel, harsh realities that a life in Chino with a shiftless father, unstable mother, and callous, older brother brought with it. But then, fifteen years into his life, everything changed. The differences between those two time periods were staggering, but, somewhere along the way, she had learned to put her son's needs ahead of her own, giving them both a chance for a better life. Who would have guessed that sick, premature Ryan Atwood would be here today? Who would have predicted that they would be so close, that she would be standing in front of him, adjusting the bowtie around his neck as he winced at the reminder of the tight, restrictive accessory? Who would have expected her son to become a wealthy, successful lawyer who was marrying, perhaps, in Dawn's opinion, the most beautiful woman in the world in the fanciest hotel in Newport Beach?

It didn't matter though if no one had envisaged this for Ryan's life the day he was born, because it was the reality, and she was thankful for it everyday, not that he had the degree or the job title or the money or the reputation or the fancy car and nice house, but that he had found love, that when she looked into his face mere minutes before his wedding, she saw things that had been lacking the first 29 years of his life: happiness, contentment, and anticipation for the future. And that was why she loved her future daughter in law, Marissa, because she put those feelings there in those crystal blue eyes Dawn knew so well.

"Look at you," she teased her son, playfully pinching his cheek after she had fixed his appearance, smirking at his annoyed expression. "I bet you never saw this coming, you, marriage, a fancy wedding, wearing a bowtie."

"Is it really necessary to remind me every five minutes how uncomfortable I am," he asked her, moving away to avoid her hands as she went to fuss with his clothes once again.

"I was actually surprised you agreed to it," Dawn mused out loud, "and I really didn't picture Marissa as the bowtie kind of woman."

"She's not," Ryan answered, collapsing onto the couch in his hotel room, disregarding his mother's disapproving look and worried expression that he would wrinkle his tux. "It's her mother's."

Laughing, Dawn sat down beside him. "That explains a lot."

"Because Julie insisted upon paying for the wedding, claiming it was tradition and she only had one opportunity to throw her only daughter a wedding, we had to compromise with her on a few matters," he explained. "I gave in on the tux and bowtie issue so that Julie would let Marissa choose her own wedding dress."

"Just how much of this wedding exactly is Julie and not you and Marissa?"

"Just about all of it," Ryan admitted, unable to not chuckle. "She's just too damn hard to argue with. We learned about a week into planning the wedding that it was just easier and would save us a lot of time and migraine medication to let Julie have her way. The only things we actually got to decide were where we were going on our honeymoon, who was invited, and Marissa got to pick her dress. But I don't really care," he continued. "As long as I get Marissa out of this whole fiasco, I'll be happy."

"Well, that's what counts," Dawn agreed with him, standing up and motioning for him to do the same, "and you're going to have a wonderful marriage. I've never seen two people love each other as much as you two do," she said as she quickly wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes before taking her son into her arms for a quick hug. "I'm so proud of you."

"Now you did take my advice and get a pre-nup, right," Julie inquired loudly through the closed door that separated the bedroom, where she was waiting already dressed, and the bathroom, where Marissa was putting the finishing touches on her appearance.

"What," Marissa yelled back, slightly confused, "no, of course not!"

"But you promised me you'd think about it, and I just assumed you would see that I was right."

"I did think about it, Mom," Marissa answered her, "for about two seconds. There's no reason for a pre-nup, because Ryan and I are never going to get divorced."

"Marissa," Julie reprimanded her, "that's just being ignorant. 75 of all marriages end in divorce in today's society. Believing your marriage will survive those odds is just being foolish."

Getting frustrated, Marissa countered, "it's not being anything; it's just the truth. I love Ryan and I know that he loves me. Sure, we might have problems, what married couple doesn't face hardships and have disagreements, but that doesn't mean we're going to take the easy road five years down the line and bail. When we say those vows today, we're going to mean them, till death do us part."

"You're a businesswoman though, honey," Julie continued to argue with her daughter. "It's important that you protect your business. A pre-nup would do that."

"Mom, that's ridiculous, like Ryan would ever want an interior decorating business. Besides," she pointed out, "he's the one with more to loose in this hypothetical divorce you already have planned for us. He makes more money than I do, he owns the house we're going to be living in, and he's the one with investments. If anyone would need a pre-nup, he would, and I can tell you without a doubt in my mind that the thought never even came to him to ask me for one."

"I still think you're being reckless," Julie complained again, her voice lower this time. Marissa could hear the pouting qualities to her mother's tone and had to laugh silently to herself before speaking up.

"If you'd please forget about all of this legal nonsense, after all, it's too late now; I'm getting married today….in a few minutes. I'd rather show you my dress."

"I would already know what it looked like," Julie grumbled, making Marissa roll her eyes, "if you would have let me go with you to help pick it out."

"Oh, you mean let you go with me so you could have made my mind up for me," Marissa teased as she opened the door and walked out of the bathroom, "thanks, but no thanks, Mom. I wanted to pick something that I liked and that I knew Ryan would like on me."

"I think he'll prefer what you look like with it off," Julie taunted, making her daughter blush, "but, back to the dress, that's not Vera Wang."

"Not it's not; it's Monique Lhuillier."

"And it's not very Newport," Julie continued to scrutinize the dress, a form fitting gown of delicate lace. It had a deep, plunging V neck which practically reached the empire waist of the dress where a thick, silk, rose colored band and accent bow and pin adorned the simple, flattering gown. It fit Marissa perfectly, as if it was designed for her body.

"That was part of the point," Marissa pointed out gently. Although she didn't need her mother's approval, she still wanted it. "Ryan and I aren't very Newport."

"The wedding dresses in this community are too fussy anyway," Julie dismissed, moving towards her glowing daughter and taking her face delicately into her hands. "They needed someone to change the image of what a Newport bride should look like, and you, my beautiful, baby girl, look flawless." Closing her eyes briefly and swallowing the emotion that was threatening to escape her lips, Julie noticeably changed the topic so as to avoid any tears that would ruin her seamless, carefully applied makeup. "And I really like your hair like that," she pointed out, reaching up to slightly adjust a tiny, unruly tendril after opening her eyes. "This loose, upswept look really accentuates your gorgeous cheekbones…."

"Cheekbones I got from you," Marissa interrupted, smiling kindly at her mother.

"Plus, it just lets your natural beauty shine through," Julie finished, letting her hands cup her daughter's face one last time. "You're going to give Ryan heart palpitations."

Giggling, Marissa responded, "mild ones are acceptable," before turning back to the mirror to check on her appearance again, eager for the word that the ceremony was starting and anticipating the look on Ryan's face when he finally saw her walking down the aisle towards him.

"So," Dawn prodded, her curiosity getting the better of her as she started a conversation she had promised herself she wouldn't that morning when she had left home to meet her son at the hotel he was getting married at, "you're taking a big step today, getting married. When are you and Marissa going to take the next one?"

Confused, Ryan asked, "what next step?"

"Kids," she answered him, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. "I'm not getting any younger, you know, and I'd like to have grandkids to play with and spoil while I'm still able to move about rather easily."

"Kids," Ryan repeated, shocked and slightly flustered.

"Well, you guys do want them, don't you," Dawn pressed. "I mean, you have had this conversation, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah," he admitted, blushing slightly, "but it's not exactly a conversation I had pictured having with my Mom on my wedding day." When she went to protest, he continued. "But….we do want kids…eventually. For a while, we just want to have fun, enjoy each other, get used to this whole marriage thing. Plus, her business is really starting to pick up now that she finished this hotel and got so much press, and I should make partner within the next couple of years, so…."

"So you're doing this maturely," Dawn finished for him. "Even though I can't deny I'd be thrilled if you told me Marissa was already pregnant, I can respect your decision and realize it's probably the smart one. Just don't wait too long."

"We won't," Ryan assured her, smiling despite himself at his Mother's apparent enthusiasm to be a grandma.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, let's get to the more important, interesting questions," Dawn insisted, grinning widely. "How many kids do you and Marissa want?"

"Wha….what," Ryan stumbled over his words. "I don't know!"

"Come on," Dawn argued with him. "If you and Marissa had the kids talk, there's no way you didn't bring up numbers. You can tell me," she continued to try and convince him. "I promise I won't tell Julie." That apparently was all he needed to hear.

"Fine, I'll admit it, we talked numbers." Ryan couldn't help but laugh out loud when he saw his Mom clap her hands out of anticipation and sit down on the couch to wait for him to continue talking. "We really didn't settle on a one though," he revealed, speaking slowly, cautiously, "but we both want more than two kids, and, as for exactly how many, we'll just wait and see how good we are at the whole parent thing and what we can afford."

"What about names," Dawn pressed him for more information, "have you started thinking about names yet? Or, what about where you're going to live, have you started looking for a house to raise your family in? And you'll have to get different vehicles, family friendly sedans or SUV's instead of the tiny, sports cars the two of you drive right now. Plus, you'll want to start looking into schools….."

"Mom," Ryan stopped her in her obsessive, baby-happy tracks. "You need to calm down. It's going to be at least a few years before we even start trying to have a kid, and, if you keep this up, I'm going to think you're crazy and have you committed."

"Point taken," Dawn agreed with him, turning her back to her son before whispering quietly to herself. "I guess I'll just have to talk to Marissa about this." Grinning to herself, she turned back around, Ryan's boutonnière in hand. "Let's finish getting you ready so you can finally make that gorgeous woman down the hall your wife."

Ryan had no arguments with that.

"Here, have some champagne," Julie offered, pushing a frosted glass into her daughter's hands.

"I can't," Marissa replied without hesitation, handing the glass back to her stunned, slightly annoyed looking mother. When she didn't move, just continued to stand there and stare at her, Marissa spoke up. "Are you okay, Mom?"

"Oh my god," Julie lamented, downing both glasses of the expensive alcohol as quickly as she could. "He knocked you up already!"

"What," Marissa objected, her eyes flashing open in surprise and confusion. "No, what….no, I'm not pregnant. Why would you even think that?"

"Because you wouldn't drink," Julie pointed out as if it was the obvious answer.

"I don't want to drink," Marissa explained, "because I want to remember every, little, seemingly insignificant detail to today, and alcohol will just inhibit that. Besides," she continued, giggling gleefully, "I'm so excited right now, I don't think I could eat or drink anything."

"Good," Julie exclaimed, collapsing onto the couch in a relieved sigh. "I am so not ready for you to become a mother….if you even have…."

"When I have kids," Marissa interrupted her mother, correcting her.

"IF," Julie pressed, making Marissa merely roll her eyes and shake her head in amused disbelief, "if you even have kids. Nothing is certain."

"This is," Marissa replied quickly.

"Well, IF you do have them, I have one request."

"As long as it's nothing crazy like insisting we name our first born after you or asking me to consider surrogacy so I don't have to worry about loosing the baby weight or getting stretch marks, I'm sure Ryan and I will be able to grant you your request."

Smiling at her daughter, Julie responded, "I just don't want them to call me grandma."

Confused, Marissa asked, "what would they call you then?"

"Julie."

"You want your grandchildren to call you by your first name," Marissa questioned, her disbelief evident in her tone. Her mother simply nodded her head in accordance. "I must say, Mom," Marissa chuckled, going to sit down beside her only to have Julie spring up from the couch and pull Marissa with her, "you're one of a kind."

"And you are not getting this dress wrinkled," Julie chastised her. "Now, wait here. I just want to go and grab a few more hair pins to put in your hair. We don't need it falling down when you're dancing later." With that, Julie disappeared into the bathroom, giving Marissa a moment alone. Moving to the mirror, she looked at herself one last time, smiling widely. "Marissa Atwood," she said out loud to herself, her smile just growing larger as she couldn't but help but giggle out of anticipation. "You're really becoming Mrs. Ryan Atwood today, Marissa." So lost in her own little, perfect world, she never noticed her mother come out of the bathroom to only stop and stare at her in awe, realizing she had never seen a woman appear so much in love, that she'd never seen her daughter so happy before. It was enough to take Julie's breath away.

"Are you sure the wedding coordinator didn't call," Marissa asked her Mom nervously. "You didn't accidentally set your phone on vibrate so we missed her call, did you?"

"My ringer is on," Julie assured her panicked daughter. "When the wedding coordinator calls, we'll hear it."

"But the ceremony was supposed to start five minutes ago," Marissa argued, pacing across the room in an agitated manor. "What if something happened; what if Ryan changed his mind and doesn't want to marry me any longer?"

"Marissa, that's ridiculous," Julie argued with her, pulling her hand away from her mouth as she went to nervously chew on her nails. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason as to why there's a delay. Maybe there were some late arriving guests that they haven't gotten seated yet; this is Southern California after all. We both know how bad the traffic can get. Or maybe that temperamental chef this hotel employs had another mini-breakdown and she had to go and deal with him before the ceremony could start." Just as she finished talking, there was an abrupt knock on the door. "See, I bet that's Nina right now."

Swinging the door open, Julie was confronted with both Ryan and Dawn. "You're not the wedding coordinator," she said as if on instinct before moving to slam the door shut in their faces. "What do you think you're doing here? You can't see Marissa before the wedding!" But she wasn't quick enough, and Ryan pushed the door open as he walked into the room.

As soon as he saw Marissa standing there, watching him, slightly confused by his actions but still unable to not smile, everything he was about to say disappeared from his mind, and he crossed the room with a few, long strides and took his fiancé in his arms. Incapable of stopping himself, he kissed her, the embrace delicate, full of the wonder, awe, and absolute ecstasy he was experiencing in that moment at the sight of the beautiful, breathtaking woman standing in front of him, all the love so plainly displayed on her face for him.

Dropping his hands which had been tenderly holding her face to her hips, he pulled her body tightly against his, their foreheads naturally, as if on instinct, moving to rest on each others. Although neither of them had noticed anyone else standing in the room since they saw each other, both mothers were silent as they watched their children interact. "You look….I just….I mean….I love you," Ryan finally managed to express, unable to explain to Marissa just how exquisite she looked.

"I love you, too," she returned, the blissfully content smile on her face letting Ryan know no other words were needed. For several minutes they just stood there in each others arms, while the rest of the world melted away into oblivion, but, eventually, Marissa's curiosity prevailed. "What are you doing here," she asked him, laughing slightly at his infatuated, lost expression.

"The minister called," he finally explained, taking her hands in his and apologizing with his eyes. "It's not good news."

"Well, he better be dead," Julie exploded, unable to remain quiet any longer, "because, if he's not, he's going to be when I get my hands on him for holding up my daughter's wedding!"

"I really don't think it's such a good idea to threaten a minister's life," Dawn pointed out gently, not wanting to upset Julie further.

Ignoring the two women talking behind them, Ryan continued to relate his conversation with the minister to Marissa. "He called from the road. He's on his way here, but there was an accident on the freeway, and he has no idea when traffic will clear up." Sharing an amused look, Ryan and Marissa, at the same time, both erupted into fits of laughter.

"I really don't see what's so funny," Julie complained. "This is your wedding! You'd think you two would care a little bit more that it's going to be completely ruined!"

"I have to admit that I agree with Julie, as surprising as that may seem," Dawn mumbled, cringing at the sight of the glare Julie sent her way.

"No, sorry, Mom," Marissa apologized. "We're not laughing about our wedding being delayed; it's just so fitting that this should happen."

"What….I don't get it," Julie said, confused, glancing between the three other people in the room for answers.

"We met in an accident on the freeway," Marissa explained, "and then, during our first date, there was another collision and we spent the rest of the night just talking, getting to know one another, and eating anything we could find in Ryan's car."

"And don't forget," he added to her story, "that I ran into you when we were both boarding the plane to Paris."

"Wait a minute," Julie interrupted. "He went to Paris with you? You never told me that!"

"Yeah, really not important right now, Mom," Marissa laughed merrily.

"I agree with Marissa," Dawn spoke up, "though I do want to hear about this trip to France eventually, but right now," she pointed out, "we need to figure out what we're going to do."

Ryan turned back to Marissa, and their eyes locked. Leaning in, he whispered to her. "You know, technically, we're already married. I have our license from the courthouse in my pocket as we speak."

"That's a good point," Marissa agreed with him. "And we really didn't want a big wedding anyway."

Getting worried, Julie yelled, "what are you two whispering about over there? You look like you're conspiring to do something I know I won't approve of!"

With a final nod of their heads to show their agreement, Ryan and Marissa both turned to face their mothers, concealing the mischievousness flashing through their eyes. "Wait here, Julie," Ryan demanded. "My Mom and I will go and talk to Nina, figure this out, and we'll call you when we know what's going on." Giving Marissa one last, quick kiss, he went to walk out the door, squeezing her hand when he finally had to let go of her. As soon as he and Dawn had the shut the door behind them, Julie turned to her daughter.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"You're supposed to be the positive one," Marissa chided her mother, turning around to pick up her purse and rummage through it as if she was looking for something, implementing the silent plan she had Ryan had just made moments before. Her agitated movements got Julie's attention.

"What are you looking for?"

"I need breath mints," Marissa explained, tossing her purse aside in frustration.

"That's no problem. I have mints in my clutch," Julie informed her. "Let me go and get them for you; catastrophe avoided."

"I need cinnamon ones," Marissa complained. "Ryan loves the smell of cinnamon."

"Then I'll just go down to the hotel gift shop and pick some up for you," Julie offered, taking her purse with her as she walked to the door. "You just need to stay calm. I'll make sure everything goes alright today. After all," she pointed out with a smug smirk, "I am Julie Cooper. I get what I want."

"Thanks, Mom," Marissa said as she watched Julie walk out of the room. As soon as the door had shut, she lunged towards her bouquet and purse, picking them up and running towards the door. Peaking outside before she opened it widely, she noticed her mom was nowhere in sight, so she took off running down the hallway until she came to the stairwell. Knowing she could run into Julie if she took the elevator, she moved as quickly as she could down the stairs without tripping over her dress, bursting free into the lobby minutes later only to run outside where she knew Ryan would be waiting for her.

Smiling as he reached for her hand and pulled her into a kiss, she fell into the embrace and nearly forgot what they were doing outside in the first place. Regaining her ability to think, she gently pushed him away. Time was of the essence. "Did your Mom agree to handle my Mom, Nina, and the rest of the guests for us," she asked him.

"Yeah, she's going to give us about ten minutes and then she'll make the announcement, so come on, I found a guest who has a moped, and he said we could use it. We'll be able to weave through traffic and reach the minister with it."

Marissa stopped dead in her tracks. "You expect me to get on a moped in this dress."

"It's either that or we wait here and suffer through the wedding and reception your Mom planned. Besides," he pointed out, "those legs deserve to be seen. Just pull your dress up. Do this for me, and I'll make it worth your while."

"Ugh," Marissa complained, pulling him towards the parking lot once again. "Why can't I ever say no to you?"

"Because you love me," Ryan answered her, picking her and running with her in his arms, her laughter sounding out across the lush grounds of the Plaza Hotel.

Fifteen minutes later they arrived at their destination, on the freeway beside the minister's pulled over car, shocked to see how close they were to the very spot they had their fender bender all those months before. So, as the warm, fall, California sun beat down on their bodies, as the bumper to bumper traffic moved past them slowly, and as the minister had to contain his laughter at the most unorthodox ceremony he'd ever performed, Ryan, sans his tux jacket and bowtie, and Marissa, her hair loose and blowing in the salt-tinged breeze, were married on the very same freeway they had met on fourteen months before.

After their impromptu ceremony on the freeway, Ryan and Marissa returned to the hotel on the moped they had borrowed, returning the keys to a valet parker, and getting their own keys to sneak away. They could have stayed for the reception they had instructed Dawn to start without them following their apologies she offered the guests, but, because it was not the reception they had imagined for themselves and because nothing had been traditional about their wedding up to that point, they had decided to check into the hotel they were staying at until they left for their honeymoon the next day early and enjoy their own, private celebration.

Ryan had carried Marissa over the threshold of their hotel room doorway, insisting he would do it again when they got to their hotel in Rio and then again when they arrived back home, while Marissa just giggled at his antics. They had separated at the doorway though, Ryan being sent for food and supplies, and Marissa asserting that he had to leave her alone for a few minutes while she changed into something more comfortable. Twenty minutes later, he walked back into the room, his hands laden down with pizza, an assortment of chips and snack foods, their favorite desserts from the best bakery in town, and a variety of various drinks, champagne included.

"Marissa," Ryan called out when he walked into the room, dropping the many things he was carrying on the first available surface. "Where are you?" Glancing around the room, its balcony doors thrown open to let the late afternoon sun and gentle, soothing ocean breeze in, Ryan noticed that his wife….HIS WIFE….had put soft music on for them. What he was listening to though, he had no idea. Assuming she must be in the bathroom, he went to the door and opened it only to have it pushed back shut right in his face. "Hey," he laughing yelled out. "What was that for?"

"You can't see me yet," Marissa answered him, locking the door in the process, "and you need to get changed, too."

Looking down at his body still in the pants and dress shirt that went with his tux, he asked, "what exactly do you want me to wear?" Her answer made him laugh.

"As little as you feel comfortable dancing in; I'll be out in a minute," Marissa continued, her voice suddenly changing from demanding and rushed to soft and seductive, "and you better be ready for me."

Ryan didn't need her to say any more than that. Stripping off his pants first, he was unsure if he had ever unbuttoned a shirt as fast as he had then. Finally, he pulled off his socks and tossed his wife beater aside, moving towards the CD player to find a song for them to share their first dance to. Glancing through the various CD's she had brought in with them, Ryan noticed a newly burnt one that he'd never seen before. Picking it up, he read the title out loud. "Classic love songs even Ryan might recognize" Laughing, he shook his head and exclaimed "very funny, Marissa," before slipping the disk out of its case and into the player. When he didn't recognize the song, he started laughing even louder, so loud he never heard the door to the bathroom open up behind him.

"That's not a good sign, Mr. Atwood," Marissa's voice teased him as she walked towards Ryan who was still standing in front of the CD player, slipping her arms around his chest and letting her hands fall to mischievously brush against his torso while she pressed her body up against his.

"And neither is the fact that I can feel clothes on your body, Mrs. Atwood," he played right along with her game, turning around in her arms to suddenly stop smiling. As his eyes took in her appearance, simply wearing a long, thin, slightly iridescent white, satin negligee, her hair in loose waves down her otherwise bare back, her face clean of its makeup, he lost all ability to talk or think.

"They'll be plenty of time for that later," Marissa promised him, taking Ryan's hand and attempting to pull him into the middle of the room so they could dance together. He willingly let her lead him, but as soon as she stopped moving, he took over, resting his hands low on her hips for a moment before sliding them slowly up her sides, savoring the feeling of the curves of his wife's body, until they reached her shoulders. Kissing each shoulder and noticing the sharp intake of breath she took after each tender touch of his lips, Ryan knew there would be no dancing for a while. Lifting the fine straps of her gown, he watched as the whole thing fell off of her slender frame, revealing her nude body to his insatiable eyes.

Carefully lifting her off the ground and holding her in his arms, Ryan made his way to their bed, the first bed they would share as husband and wife, and gently laid her down upon it, taking a moment before he joined her to merely let his eyes take in all of her beauty. Climbing onto the bed, he slowly, tenderly kissed his way up her soft, supple body until he reached her lips, pausing briefly to whisper, "you're perfect," before taking her mouth in his. In that moment, everything else around them disappeared, their bodies fused together in love and passion, as they celebrated their commitment to one another, consummating their marriage, officially becoming in their hearts Mr. and Mrs. Atwood.

Hours later, long after the sun had gone down, they were cuddled together on the bed, the only things adorning their otherwise exposed bodies were their wedding rings.

"Are you hungry," Ryan asked her in a playful tone after Marissa's stomach started making noises, eliciting a mock annoyed glare from her at his obvious question. "What do you want me to get you," he offered, standing up and moving towards the pile of food he had dropped on the table when he had first walked into their hotel room that afternoon.

"Bring the pizza, something sweet, your choice, and something for us to drink," she instructed, snuggling further down in the blankets, her left hand which was holding the sheet against her chest catching her eye. As he climbed back into the bed with her, she turned to him, a smile that could mean nothing but pure bliss gracing her glowing face. "You do realize you messed up picking out my rings."

"Wha….what," Ryan choked out, starting to panic that she didn't like them, "but I thought you…."

"Oh, I do," Marissa sat up, so eager to reassure him she never noticed the sheet dropping from her chest leaving her upper body bare. "That's just it though. You're so good at picking out jewelry, I'm going to want it all the time now."

"DO NOT scare me like that," Ryan teased her, pulling her into his arms, the food temporarily forgotten once again. As she melted into his embrace, she lifted her left hand to admire her wedding and engagement rings just as she felt Ryan's left hand slide down onto her stomach to absently trace designs and patterns onto her silky smooth skin, the cool sensation of his wedding band sending thrills throughout her whole body.

Ryan had completely surprised her with his proposal the night the Plaza had their reopening party to debut their remodeled interior. The night that had started out being the most important one of her professional career became the most important night of her life. She had known that they were steadily moving towards an engagement ever since they had returned from Paris that past September, but she had never imagined it coming eight months to the day after they had first met. That didn't matter though as Ryan got down on one knee outside in the garden of the hotel, the April moonlight perfectly reflected in those eyes of his that she could forever lose her self in, and asked her to stay with him for the rest of their lives, to be the mother of his children, to finally give him the family he had always wanted. Marissa had been dying to say yes even before he opened the ring box, but as soon as she saw the ring, she no longer could find her voice. It was beyond beautiful; it was exactly what she had always pictured her engagement ring to look like but more, a perfect expression of her taste and personality. The platinum ring had a large, cushion cut center stone surrounded by bead-set diamonds that continued on the band of the ring as well. By the time Ryan was ready for her answer, all she could manage to do was nod her head emphatically as her hands reached out to pull him up to her, needing to kiss him. They hadn't returned to the party after that; Marissa had insisted they go home immediately to celebrate their engagement properly….in private.

Because her engagement ring had been so beautiful, she just assumed Ryan would get her a simple, platinum band to match the one they had picked out together for him, but when he had pulled her wedding ring out from his pocket during their ceremony on the freeway, he had completely surprised her by revealing he had picked out one that matched her engagement ring, a legacy bead-set band ring with a full circle of round diamonds and pink sapphires, the color of the sapphires perfectly matching the accents on her wedding dress.

As the gentle, soft lighting of their hotel room made the jewelry sparkle and catch her eyes once again, Marissa was brought back from her memories to hear Ryan's voice whisper into her ear, "if you promise to model the new pieces after I buy them wearing the jewelry and only the jewelry, we might have to invest in a safe," his hot breath sending shivers down her body. Turning around in his arms, she took his lips in a sensual kiss, drawing his tongue into her mouth to meet her own. "I thought you were hungry," he questioned her, already shoving the food off the bed, not caring if he made a mess.

"I am," Marissa responded, the desire and love shining clearing in her eyes taking Ryan's breath away, "for you."

They had all night to eat food, share their first dance as husband and wife, to talk about their honeymoon, but they would never be able to share that exact, precious, intimate moment together again, and moments like that were meant to be cherished. Ryan and Marissa Atwood knew that.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Marissa, sweetie, are you here," Dawn called out as she stepped into the bright, cheerful Newport home her son and daughter-in-law owned. Windows were open and the screen door was unlocked, so she assumed Marissa was there, but, just in case she wasn't, she didn't want to go traipsing into their home without their knowledge. Plus, it was definitely not a good idea to startle Marissa at this point.

"Yeah, Dawn," she heard Marissa call from upstairs, "I'm in the nursery. Come on up."

Climbing the stairs slowly, it took Dawn several minutes to find her way through the long hallway to where she knew the nursery was, right beside Ryan and Marissa's bedroom. Before she could even smile or greet her though, fear instantly seized Dawn when she walked into the room. "Honey," she chastised, making her way towards her daughter-in-law, "what do you think you're doing? You should not be lifting things right now! Do you want to induce labor?"

"Well," Marissa began with a smirk, putting down the diaper genie she had been carrying and gently cradling her nine month pregnant, swollen belly in her hands, "I could definitely think of worse things. I'm only two weeks away from my due date, and going into labor right now sounds pretty appealing actually."

"You're not supposed to rush these things," Dawn told her sternly, moving her slowly yet surely towards the rocker that was set up in the room. "That little angel will come out when it's ready. You just need to relax, calm down, and let nature work its miracles. If Ryan knew you were carrying things….."

"Hey," Marissa yelled out, her eyes wide with worry and her voice filled with a sense of begging, "you're supposed to be on my side. You've been through this two times yourself. There will be no tattling to my husband, thank you!"

"Only if you behave," Dawn bargained with her. "I'll let this slide, even though I doubt it was your first transgression, if you promise me that you'll either wait until Ryan gets home for something to be carried or you'll call someone to come and help you from now on. I'm just down the road. Sure, my old, worn out body doesn't move that quickly, but I'd be here as quick as I could if you called, and there's always your Mom She's in town, isn't she?" Rolling her eyes, Dawn continued, "Albeit, what that woman does all day long with all her free time, I'll never know. I mean, she lives in hotels with staff to see to her every need. She literally has no worries in the world…." Dawn's voice dropped off as she noticed Marissa's disapproving look at her complaints about her mother.

"So, what can I do for you today," Marissa asked her mother-in-law, knowing it was better to change the subject than continue talking about Julie. There were two things she and Dawn sometimes disagreed and fought on: one was her Mother, for Dawn could never learn to get along with Julie, and the other was Ryan, for she had a tendency to interject her opinion about their marriage when it was not needed or wanted. "If you're stopping by just to talk, why don't we go downstairs and I'll get you something to eat or drink."

"You just sit right there," Dawn ordered when Marissa went to stand up. "I'll get out of your hair in a moment. I was taking a walk, and I just wanted to stop by to see how you were feeling today and to check to see if you could still take me to my doctor's appointment tomorrow."

"I feel great, just some slight back pain," Marissa answered, "so I see no reason why I won't be able to take you tomorrow. The appointment's at 10:00, right?"

"On the dot."

"That'll work out well. While you're at the doctor's, I'll run my errands and be back at the hospital in time to pick you up. And while we're out," Marissa suggested, "we could make a day of it, grab some lunch, stop by and do a little baby shopping."

"Should you be on your feet that much," Dawn asked cautiously. The idea of spending the day with her daughter-in-law, especially shopping for her first grandchild, was very appealing but not if it would go against her doctor's wishes.

"I'll take a lot of breaks," Marissa replied with a dismissive flip of her hand. When Dawn looked at her, the objections she was about to offer clearly written across her face, Marissa continued. "Besides," she said persuasively, "you know how much Ryan has been working lately to get caught up on his cases so he can take time off to be with me and the baby after it's born. The more I get done and out of the way, the less he'll have to do." Marissa knew appealing to Dawn's habit of coddling Ryan would work like a charm. Secretly, Ryan and Marissa often discussed her protective attitude towards him, and it annoyed Marissa that she was not there for the first fifteen years of his life but now, at times, could become overbearing and would question how Marissa treated him and their relationship. Although Ryan had more patience with her than Marissa did, there had been times since they had been married, five years before, that he had been forced to talk to her.

"That sounds great then," Dawn agreed with her. "I'll just call later and check to make sure that Ryan's okay with the idea…."

"Dawn," Marissa interrupted her mother-in-law, "I will talk to Ryan about it tonight. He's my husband, and this is a decision we can make together. Thank you for being so concerned, but you don't have to be."

"Well, that's all I wanted," Dawn responded, turning her eyes away from Marissa's. Sighing as she heard the hurt tone in Dawn's voice, Marissa waited for her mother-in-law to finish talking so she could try to lessen the severity of her words. "I just wanted to stop by and check in with you," Dawn continued, "but I'm driving into Chino this afternoon to go see some old friends. If you need anything though, just call my cell phone. I'll leave it on the whole time."

"I will, Dawn," Marissa promised, smiling at her softly, "and thanks for stopping in. I'll be looking forward to tomorrow."

With one last look around the room, Dawn stopped in the doorway, leaning against the door jam. "This room," she complimented the mint green and cream nursery, "is beautiful. You've done a wonderful job, sweetie."

"It is my job after all," Marissa teased, winking at her, "but thanks for saying that anyway." Sharing one last smile, the two women parted amiably, Dawn slowly walking back down the stairs and Marissa sitting patiently in the rocker until she heard the screen door shut, signaling she could start working again.

There was still so much she wanted to do to get the baby's room ready. True, if she went by her due date, they still had weeks to prepare, but, that morning when she had woke up, she had had a sense of urgency, that if she didn't get the room finished that afternoon, she'd go crazy. "It's not like I have anything better to do," Marissa acknowledged, standing up and walking down the hall to their second floor laundry room, something that she had requested when they had been house shopping. Stooping, she unloaded the dryer, full of new baby clothes that she had washed so that they were ready for when they would be needed, reloading it and putting her last load in the washer before taking the basket back to the nursery to fold. As her hands lovingly handled the tiny, newborn clothes, outfits that either a baby boy or girl could wear, she couldn't help but think back over the past five years and how much their lives had changed since she and Ryan had gotten married.

For the first three years of their marriage, Ryan and Marissa had lived in bliss in his small house. With just the two of them, there was no need for much space. Their families were small, just them and their mothers, so they did not need large rooms for entertaining. Plus, they liked having a small home. It meant less upkeep, less work, and it also meant that the rooms were more intimate and comfortable.

She had continued to build her business, being featured in several decorating magazine and gaining a reputation for being one of the top designers on the west coast. It was no longer a struggle to find clients; she didn't have to court new jobs. Instead, they flocked to her, high profile jobs bidding for her services. Her business had increased so much, she had been forced to hire designers to work with her, under her, selling her small shop front property and buying a larger office building.

Ryan, meanwhile during the first three years of their marriage, had also moved up the career ladder, becoming one of the youngest lawyers in his firm to make partner. With the big corner office though came more responsibility and longer hours. Luckily, because they were both so career focused, they both understood each others desire to make the most of themselves. They just learned to take advantage of any quiet, alone time they got.

Weekends were their time. Whether they merely stayed in bed for two solid days, something they both enjoyed, took day trips down the coast, or worked together on household chores, they both savored the moments they got to share together. The best part about becoming more successful though was the vacations. After their first trip together to Paris and then their honeymoon to Rio, traveling had become their passion. Not extravagant people in their daily lives, they splurged on their trips around the world, taking several vacations periodically throughout the year.

Any money they did not spend on traveling or living expenses was invested for the future. They both wanted a family and knew that children were not cheap. For several years, the idea of starting their family had been a far away idea, but, two years before, that all changed.

Dawn had passed out at work, losing consciousness. They had both received vague phone calls from the Chino hospital where she had been rushed, leaving their work right away to rush to her side. Although she had been fine, the doctors had discovered that she had a severe case of diabetes that had gone either undetected or ignored for several years and the early signs of emphysema. Though she was still relatively young and not of retirement age, they, after talking privately, had urged her to quit working and move to Newport where they could keep a better eye on her. Forced to re-evaluate their lives, they had decided that it was time to seriously start preparing for the family they wanted before it was too late for Dawn to know her grandchildren. Signing over their house into her name, they had used their savings to purchase a much larger home just down the street from her, one that they would be able to raise their family in.

It had taken a year for everyone to adjust to their new lifestyles. Ryan and Marissa had extensively remodeled their home to fit their tastes and had also spent money redecorating their old home for Dawn. Because of their hectic work schedules though, the work had taken a while to complete. Once it was finished, there was nothing standing in their way, no reason not to try to conceive a child.

Three months later, they had found out Marissa was pregnant. Apparently, it was not difficult for them to have a baby at all. They had assumed that their lives would continue the same way they had for the first four years of their marriage, but two months into Marissa's pregnancy, after weeks of painful morning sickness, they both had realized parenthood was about to change their lives forever.

At first Marissa had been hesitant to even consider scaling back her work schedule, but, once she fell in love with her child and the morning sickness passed and she relished the feeling of being pregnant, of experiencing a child….their child growing inside of her, she knew that motherhood would become more important than her career. So, surprising no one more than herself, she had let her business go, sold her office, and found new positions with competing firms for her employers. She would never stop designing, but it would no longer be her life. With just Reneta to help her and a design studio in their poolhouse, Marissa Atwood Designs was downsized to fit the lifestyle of a young, new Mom. While still working, she would be able to spend everyday with her children, have a flexible schedule to take off for school programs and parties whenever they wanted or needed her, and not miss a moment of their childhoods while still helping to financially support their family.

Ryan had also cut back his work. As partner, instead of taking all his cases on himself, he learned to delegate to those who worked beneath him. It had been a gradual process, but, by the time the baby was born, he would have regular hours, nine to five, and always be home early to see his wife and children, to tuck their children in together, and then spend time alone….perhaps making another baby. At first, he had worried he would hate his new schedule, but anything that allowed him more time with his wife was something he loved. Their marriage, their connection had never been stronger.

Smiling at the thought of how close she and Ryan were, Marissa stood up from folding the basket of laundry, moving towards the dresser to put the clothes away. Rubbing her back tiredly for it was really starting to hurt, she attempted to breathe through the pain, wishing away the early afternoon hours and looking forward to when Ryan would be home. "We already miss, Daddy, don't we, baby," she cooed sweetly to her son or daughter as they gave her a hearty kick in the kidneys as a response, making her laugh. "Perhaps we should make him something special for dinner," she thought out loud to herself as she made her way downstairs to see what they had in the freezer, her hands constantly caressing the baby she was carrying. "He's been working so hard on the case he's presenting today in court, he deserves a treat"…._especially since he hasn't had his favorite dessert now for a while_, she mused to herself silently, laughing, not wanting to talk about sex out loud even if the baby really couldn't hear or understand her. That, their lack of a sex life, at times, during her pregnancy, was just another reason she hoped to go into labor soon.

Just as Marissa made her way into the kitchen, the phone rang. Checking the caller ID, she asked out loud, "what is with the mothers checking in on me today? It's like they have this radar that goes off every time I even attempt to be productive." Clicking the phone on, Marissa greeted Julie. "Hey Mom, how are you adjusting to being back in boring old Newport?"

Two years earlier, Julie had met a wealthy, recently widowed, slightly older man and the two had become inseparable. She had, despite Marissa's wishes, good sense, and advice, quit her job to travel around the world with him. She had sold her house, cashed in her investments, and decided to live her life in the fast lane, partying, gambling, and spending obscene amounts of money on designer clothes. Although neither she nor her boyfriend had any plans on making their relationship legal or binding, Marissa had to admit that they both seemed happy, that their carefree approach to dating seemed to work for them. Julie had never been so relaxed, pleasant, or easy to get along with.

"Actually," Julie pointed out, "we took a small trip to Vegas. There was just nothing to do, and you're still two weeks away from your due date. Besides, if anything happens, it's just a short flight away. I'd be there before you even really started feeling the pain."

"Well, win big," Marissa laughed at her Mom. "That way, you can set up your first grandchild's college fund while you're keeping yourself amused until I pop them out."

"Marissa," Julie reprimanded her, "don't….say it like that, popped out. It sounds so crude."

_Same old Julie Cooper_, Marissa realized to herself, giggling slightly as she went and opened up the fridge, spotting a pint of her favorite sherbet and forgetting the initial reason she had come downstairs. "Sorry, Mom," she eventually apologized, a mouthful of the frozen, fruity concoction making her words difficult to understand. "So, tell me," she continued after swallowing her first bite and sighing at the cool sensations the treat elicited in her warm body, "where are you and Jones staying this time?" She couldn't help but laugh again when she said her Mom's boyfriend's name. _His first name must be horrendous_, she said to herself. _Why else would he insist that everyone call him by his last name? _In fact, Marissa didn't even have an idea what his first name way. No one had ever used it before.

"Oh, honey," Julie replied emphatically, "there is only one place one can stay in Vegas if they want to socialize with the right people: The Bellagio. But listen," she pushed on, her voice speeding up a she got to the reason for her phone call, "I don't want to keep you. I just wanted to let you know that if you go into labor, you should have me paged and not call my cell phone. It's much more polite to use the pager when we're gambling."

"Okay, sounds great, Mom," Marissa agreed. "I actually need to go and switch the laundry again. I just heard the dryer shut off."

"You know," Julie suggested, "you should really look into hiring some….," but her words were cut off my Marissa saying goodbye and clicking off the phone. Pondering for just a second, Marissa shrugged her shoulders and took her sherbet with her. "It's made from natural ingredients," she argued out loud to herself. "A girl could eat worse things for lunch."

Holding the pint in one hand and supporting her back which seemed to just increase in pain as every second ticked by, she made her way back upstairs, dinner for Ryan forgotten, eager to continue working on preparing the baby's room. Halfway up the stairs though, the dull, constant ache in her back suddenly changed, gripping her in a searing, blinding sense of pain. Dropping the sherbet and spoon she was using to eat it, Marissa merely watched as the container tumbled all the way down the stairs, leaving a sticky trail behind it.

"Oh my god," she realized to herself, "I'm in labor." For a moment, she stood transfixed, utterly terrified. Ryan was in court, her Mom was in Vegas, and Dawn was on her way to Chino, but then common sense, once again, took control and she laughed at her own panic. "This is going to take hours," she commented breezily, making her way back down the stairs and towards the kitchen so she could clean up the mess she had made. "Hell, my water hasn't even broken yet." Laughing to herself, she cleaned up the mess unable to keep the smile off of her face. No matter what, she could now see the light at the end of the tunnel. In only a matter of hours, granted it could very well be many, many hours full of sheer, terrifying pain and misery, she and Ryan would get to meet their son or daughter.

Working and breathing her way through the pain, not even paying attention to the clock to count how many minutes passed between each contraction for her mind was too distracted, Marissa pushed on, accomplishing, one by one, each goal she had set for herself that day. As soon as she finished with the laundry, she packed her bag, including things for Ryan in it as well, and a bag for the baby. She quickly made several meals for Ryan for after the baby was born, things he could heat up and eat quickly whenever he was hungry, washed the dishes, and even cleaned their bathroom, something she knew he hated doing so that it would not get done again until she was capable of moving around easily on her own. Satisfied, she called Ryan's cell, knowing he was in court but hoping he would get the message eventually.

"Hey baby," she whispered softly, unable to keep the joyful tone out of her voice and not wanting to, "I have good news." Raising her voice out of excitement, she squealed, "I'm in labor. The baby is FINALLY coming, so as soon as you get this, I'm at home….waiting for you." Ending the conversation, she said sweetly, "we love you, Daddy," and hung up the phone.

Going back upstairs, she, somehow, settled herself very carefully on the floor of the baby's room, her back too sore to sit up in the rocker but unwilling to spend her time in any other room besides the nursery. Lying down, she opened up their baby's book, filling in every last detail of information she could to describe what the early stages of her labor felt like while she waited patiently for Ryan to call back. Twenty minutes later, her good mood disappeared and her easy labor turned into hell when her water broke….all over the brand new carpet of the nursery.

Suddenly, the pain was too strong to get up, and, no matter how she tried to situate herself, she could not find a comfortable position. She knew that there was no way she'd be able to get up off of the floor without help, - _stupid freaking, sentimental idea to sit down here in the first place,_ she silently berated herself – but she was still unwilling to call for help, to call the hospital, to call for an ambulance. Wanting only Ryan, her husband, her baby's father with her, she waited, alternating between screaming out in pain, crying as her emotions got the better of her, and swearing at the thought that they would have to replace the carpet she had just ruined before the baby could sleep in its room.

Time slipped by; Marissa was unable to keep track of it. She had no idea how long she had been in labor or how long it had been since she called Ryan, but she lived for the shrill ring of their phone, begging for it to be the only person she wanted at her side. Finally, when it seemed as if she couldn't take the pain or the uncertainty any longer, she got her wish. Looking at the caller ID, she saw that it was in fact her husband.

"Took you long enough," she yelled at him, immediately feeling contrite at the sound of his apologetic tone.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said quickly, wanting to keep her as calm as possible. "I just got your message. You're at the hospital by now though, right, because I'm on my way. I just told my co-council that they had to handle the rest of the case by themselves."

"No, I'm still at home," she sniffled through her reply.

"What, why," he asked incredulous. "It's been almost three hours since you called me!"

"Because I didn't want to go without you," she snapped back at him. Her own mind was spinning at the rate her mood was shifting and turning, barely able to keep track herself if she was happy to hear his voice, annoyed with the fact that he wasn't there, or upset that she was being mean to him.

"I'm getting in my car right now," Ryan promised her, "but I'm going to call an ambulance. If they get there before I do, call me, and I'll meet you at the hospital."

"No," she screamed emphatically, on the verge of tears once again. "I can't go without you!"

"Okay, okay," he soothed her, "but I'm still going to call them. I'll just tell them not to take you until I get home, and I promise," he continued as kindly as he could, "that I'll break every traffic law there is to get to you as soon as possible."

"Do you promise to call me right back," she asked softly, her vulnerability shining through.

"Of course, baby, but I have to hang up for a few minutes. Just keep practicing the breathing techniques we learned. Have you timed how far apart your contractions are?"

Laughing self-deprecatingly, she answered, "no. There's no clock in here, and I don't have the patience to count to myself."

"Where are you at," he asked confused.

"I'm in the nursery….on the floor." Before he could say anything, she pushed on, hiccupping as she started to cry. "I'm so sorry, Ryan."

"Sorry for what? I don't understand," he asked confused, practically frantic. "Is something wrong with you or the baby?"

"No," Marissa responded hastily. "We're fine….but my water broke on the new carpet. We're going to have to get it replaced."

"Hey," Ryan dismissed her concerns, chuckling at her and making her giggle with him, "as long as you and the baby are okay, I'll bulldoze the whole house and build a new one if I have to." Hearing her mirth, he knew that it was okay to hang up. "I'm going to call the hospital now, okay. I love you."

"We love you, too."

And with that, Ryan hung up the phone, a nervous, insanely cheesy smile covering his face in anticipation. His son or daughter was about to be born, he was about to become a Dad, he and Marissa were about to become parents….together.

Marissa was not sure how much longer she would be able to wait for Ryan, but, still, she refused to call for help. She had lost him ten minutes earlier on his cell phone, but they had been expecting it. Because he had been in LA for his court case, she reasoned it had been almost 45 minutes since he had first called her for there was a spot just outside of Newport where they always lost cell reception. Expecting him any minute, she could not wait to lay her eyes on her husband's calm, soothing face, needing his confidence, his love, his support to get her through the labor. Although she was not timing her contractions, at that point, it had become unnecessary for they seemed to occur right on top of the other, making her cry out in pain almost continually. The real concern was she had no idea where the ambulance was, not to mention she was so thirsty she was practically having fantasies about ice chips.

Shorts still damp will amniotic fluid, shirt wet with sweat, she was thoroughly miserable, her hair sticking to the perspiration and tears running down her exhausted face, perspiration from the pain and amount of work she was going through, tears from the force of her contractions and her fear she was going to give birth alone, in her child's nursery, with no one to hold her hand or take care of the baby.

"Marissa," she heard Ryan shout, a labored smile gracing her face for only a moment before pain shot through her again, "are you still here? Where's the ambulance?" It was impossible for her to answer him though.

Seconds later, he ran into the room, immediately falling down by her side, taking her hand in his as she instantly squeezed it and whimpered, cried, and screamed through another contraction, running his soothingly cool and steady hand through her damp hair and moving it off of her face. "Have you heard from the ambulance," he asked her once again, his voice soft with concern and anxiety. She merely shook her head no to answer him. "I'm going to go and call them," he said going to stand up, but her firm grasp on his hand pulled him back down.

"Don't leave me," she panted out unevenly, tears already forming in her eyes at the thought of being left alone again. "Please."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, leaning down to kiss her briefly before sitting back and pulling out his cell phone. Dialing with one hand so that he could continue to hold hers, he kept his eyes locked on her big, frightened blue irises the whole time. "Yes, this is Ryan Atwood," he explained when someone picked up the other line. "I called for an ambulance for my wife nearly an hour ago and no one has arrived yet. She's in labor." Just as he said that, Marissa let out a blood curdling scream, unable to keep it at bay any longer. "Yes," she heard Ryan respond testily, "she's really far along! Her water broke hours ago!"

Putting his hand over the phone, he spoke to her. "I'm going to have to take you to the hospital myself. There was a bad accident on the freeway, involving a bus full of passengers. The ambulance was called, in route, to help. Let me load the bags in the car and then I'll come back up as soon as I can and I'll carry you downstairs."

"No," Marissa choked out, unable to say anymore.

"Honey, I have to; I'm sorry. If I didn't have to leave your side, I wouldn't."

"You don't get it," Marissa finally managed to gasp, her voice raspy with thirst and pain. Her words stopped Ryan in his tracks. "I need to push now!" When he merely stared at her in shock and confusion, she pressed on. "I can feel the baby, Ryan. It's coming. There's no time to get to the hospital."

"But I'm not ready," he replied all of a sudden a nervous wreck. Standing up, he started to pace the room. "There's no doctor, no nurses, no hospital, no scrubs, no one to pick me up after I pass out…"

He would have kept rambling if two voices didn't start yelling for him at the same time, his wife and the person on the other end of the phone. Snapping out of his panic, he moved back to Marissa's side, taking her hand, once again, in his as she panted through her pain, and put the phone back up to his ear.

"I need a doctor," he ordered the receptionist on the other end. "Someone is going to have to talk me through delivering our baby."

Smiling up at Ryan through already drooping eye lids, Marissa smiled at the sight before her. Laying on their king sized bed, he moved to sit beside her, totally oblivious to the soiled sheets. The sleeves of his dress shirt, now stained from delivering their baby, pushed up, his tie and jacket long since discarded, he moved to rest as closely to her as possible, the tiny, whimpering baby, their baby, resting cradled protectively in his strong, capable arms. "Hey Mommy," he said to her softly, bending down to place a delicate, loving, thankful kiss on her chapped lips, "our son wants to meet you." Handing the little, newborn boy to her, their eyes locked for a second as they acknowledged their love for each other and their family before they both turned to look at their son.

Because she had been in so much pain, Marissa would not remember the horrifying moments of her labor, the minutes of sheer terror her husband had gone through as he delivered their baby, knowing that its life depended upon his ability to take the doctor's instructions and apply them to their situation. Though she could remember flashes, Ryan running for towels, water, and supplies to cut the umbilical cord, Ryan sucking the fluid from their baby's nose and mouth, Ryan letting her know that the baby was healthy and whole as he cleaned it before joining her, the fear and uncertainty he went through would remain between him and their son, a bond no one would be able to break.

"He needs a name," Ryan insisted, running his index finger across his son's cheek, turning to smile at his wife.

"You choose," Marissa suggested, snuggling deeper into his arms and letting her eyes drift shut. "Since you delivered him, I think you know him better than anyone else at this point." Smiling through her exhaustion, she continued, "so what will it be, Daddy? What do you want to name our son?"

Thinking for a moment, Ryan finally answered, "Conner, Conner Atwood."

"Hm," Marissa sighed, "he is perfect, isn't he? How about Conner Lee Atwood?" At the mention of the middle name, Ryan's eyes lit up, making Marissa smile serenely back at him.

As he leaned down to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers once again, he whispered, "I love you," so confidently, Marissa's heart could not contain any more happiness.

"Love you, too," she mumbled, moving her son to her exposed breast to nurse as he started to cry, falling into a deep, blissful sleep as soon as she felt his tiny, innocent mouth attach to her nipple, never waking as Ryan picked her up and carried her down to his SUV, resting her and the baby in the backseat as he continued to nurse as Marissa rested, a blanket covering their bodies keeping them warm and safe as he slowly, cautiously, made his way to the hospital. After all, he had a family to keep safe now, and they didn't have a very good track record on the freeway.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Alright, so this is the final chapter of this little ficlet. To replace it, I'll be starting a new story; how long it will be is yet to be determined. El will get to have a say in which tale I tell next, but you can also request either fun and fluff or drama and angst in your responses. I can't promise to listen, but I'll at least take into account what you say. For those of you who were stumped, the middle name Lee came from Ryan's favorite book. On his first date with Marissa, he revealed that the book To Kill a Mockingbird inspired him to become a lawyer. The author of that literary work is Harper Lee. Thanks to everyone who read this story and enjoyed it. Your comments were always appreciated! Enjoy!_

Charlynn

Chapter Six

Standing in the doorway of their poolhouse, the building which had served as his wife's studio for the past fifteen years since they had their first child, Conner, Ryan couldn't believe how much he still loved her, how, with one glance at her still beautiful face and body, he was taken back to the fateful day they had met, back to the moment he had made her his wife, twenty years before to that very day. Never had he imagined that his life would be the way it was. Growing up in Chino with an unstable childhood, an even rockier adolescence, and then a difficult time as a young adult as he struggled to make something of himself with only his mom to support him, Ryan had never dreamed he would meet the woman of his dreams let alone marry her. But, after twenty years of marriage and three kids, they were still as in love as they ever had been.

Unbeknownst to Marissa, he had contacted Renetta the week before and asked her to call off so that Marissa would be alone that afternoon so he could set his plan in motion. Although they had agreed to just spend their anniversary in with the kids as they always did, there was no way Ryan was going to let their twentieth anniversary go by without surprising her somehow, and Julie and the kids had proven to be quite helpful in accomplishing his goal.

Wanting to surprise her, for she was not expecting him home for a few more hours, he carefully moved across the expanse of the room, holding in his laughter at her work habits. She had drawing pencils stuck behind both of her ears, another hanging from her mouth as she chewed on it, and a fourth in her hand as she rapidly moved it across the blueprint she was working on. Obviously taking advantage of her solo day at the office, she was still in her pajamas, and adorable baby-doll nightgown, and her feet were bare. The windows were all thrown open to allow the fresh, cool breeze off the ocean to relieve the stuffy August air, and the ceiling fan was on high to circulate it around the room. The moving currents also made the stubborn wisps of hair around Marissa's face tickle her warm, soft skin, but, too busy working, she would merely attempt to get rid of them by blowing the hair off of her face. All together, Ryan was not sure if he had ever seen a more beautiful sight before.

Sliding his arms around her waist, Ryan let his hands wander her still taunt and supple body while his lips left whispering, delicate kisses along her neck. "Hello Mrs. Atwood." He couldn't help but give out a deep chuckle as he heard her gasp from shock and surprise, her body, at first, stiffening but then relaxing immediately into his arms as soon as she realized who was holding her. "Happy Anniversary."

"Hm, it just got a whole lot better." Standing up, she moved into his body and kissed him softly before pulling back. "But what are you doing here? Don't you have to work today?"

Nuzzling her neck, he replied, "work's no fun, and I knew that you were home alone this afternoon, so I figured I'd treat myself to a little pre-party celebration."

"We're going to have to be quick," Marissa instructed him, attempting to pull him out of the poolhouse and towards the kitchen doors that would lead them into the house and then to their bedroom, "because Carys will be home from school in about an hour, and the boys won't be too far behind her, because football practice is a short session today." No matter what she'd do though, Ryan would not move. Instead, he kept bringing her back into his arms and steadily moving them towards the far wall of the studio.

"Where is your adventurous spirit? You know," Ryan persisted, attempting to run his hands under her pajamas only to have Marissa playfully dodge his advances, "it could be fun, staying out here, running the risk of getting caught, add a little something extra to our sex life and make it even better."

"First of all," Marissa argued, a look of mock annoyance on her lovely face as she pretended to be insulted, "I didn't realize our sex life needed any improvement. From what you were saying last night, I'd say that we're pretty much perfect together."

"We are perfect together," Ryan agreed sweetly, dropping a light kiss on her nose and smiling at her before she continued talking.

"And secondly," Marissa added, "running the risk of getting caught making love by our six year old daughter does not sound like an adventure to me. It sounds like a nightmare. Now," she coaxed, quirking her eyebrow at him and sliding one of the loose straps of her nightgown down her shoulder, "if you'd settle for our bedroom, I might just give you one of your presents early."

Turning around and giggling, she went to run towards the house, but Ryan's outstretched arm stopped her. Pulling her body back against his, he, that time, succeeded in slipping one of his hands under her pajamas, letting his fingers idly dance their way up her abdomen to her full and free breasts. "What if I were to tell you that Carys was getting picked up from school today by your Mom, that they were going shopping until the boys got out of football practice, and then all four of them were going out to dinner. The best part, though, is that all three kids are spending the night at your Mother's, which means you and I get a whole evening to ourselves to do whatever we want….wherever we want."

"I thought we were going to have a small party at home with the kids," Marissa pouted. "I didn't get to kiss them goodnight…."

"Which I'm sure the boys are quite happy about."

"That's not funny, Ryan. I don't care how old they are, they're still my little babies, and I'm going to give them a kiss goodnight for as long as I can. And what about Cabot's allergy medicine," she pointed out, getting upset. It took everything in Ryan to keep from laughing at her worrying antics. "You know he never remembers to pack it when he goes away. Maybe I should just…." She went to go back into the main house, but he kept a firm grasp upon her body making sure she stayed with him.

"The kids packed everything they will need; I made sure of it. And, if not," he conceded when she went to protest, "your Mom will call. We're not going to fall off the face of the earth; we're just going to properly celebrate our twentieth anniversary which means you and me getting some alone time together, then dinner out at your favorite restaurant, and then more alone time later tonight when we have the whole house to ourselves as we exchange gifts. After all," he pointed out cheekily, "your Mom raised you. I'm sure she can handle her three grandchildren for one night."

Slowly starting to give in, Marissa acknowledged, "we haven't had a night to ourselves in a long time."

"Years," Ryan added.

"And it would be nice just to be alone, you and me, not having to worry about making dinner, helping with homework, or making sure everyone gets to bed at a decent hour."

"Exactly, he agreed with her, nodding his head vehemently. "So," he added, tilting her face back so that his lips could meet hers, "why are you being so difficult?" When she didn't say anything, he deepened their kiss, letting his tongue slip into her mouth to meet and dance with hers, savoring the feeling of having his wife in his arms, enjoying their close embrace, and wishing for an even more passionate expression of their love.

Suddenly and catching Ryan off guard, Marissa turned around in his arms and wrapped her own around his neck, drawing him deeper into their kiss. Knowing that was her way of agreeing to a poolhouse tryst, he quickly picked her up and pushed her against the wall, shedding her body of the alluring nightgown that was obscuring his eyes from the view he craved and his hands from the body he was addicted to. It was going to be a wonderful anniversary, and Marissa was still absolutely clueless as to what he was up to.

Waiting at the end of the stairs for Marissa to finish getting ready for dinner that night, Ryan couldn't help but think about how wonderful their life was. His eyes swept up the stairs admiring the numerous photographs Marissa had arranged to tell the story of their lives as a person ascended the stairs. It started with snapshots of their trip from Paris, their first photos together as a couple. Then there were pictures of their first Christmas and New Years Eve together as a couple, shots of them on the night he proposed, photos from their wedding day and honeymoon in Rio, various shots from the many trips they took the first five years of their marriage, and pictures of the two of them fixing up their house after they bought it.

Following their photos of just the two of them, the kids took over the focus. There were various pictures of Conner either by himself, with his parents, or with his two grandmothers, but, because his younger brother, Cabot Lucas, was born two years later, many of the shots had both boys in them. With two little boys so close in age, Ryan and Marissa had been too busy taking care of them plus an ailing Dawn whose health continued to deteriorate as she got older to consider having more children. Ten years before, when Conner was only five and Cabot three, Dawn had succumbed to her many illnesses and had passed away. Four years later, the family got a surprise when little Carys Lynn was born. She was the apple of her parents' eye, the little, baby sister her older brothers spoiled, and the joy of their small family. The rest of the stairwell consisted of pictures of all three kids together at various holiday events, and Ryan couldn't wait to add more pictures to their family gallery.

"Marissa," he called up the stairs, holding back his laughter, "are you almost ready? Our reservations are in an hour, and you know what traffic is like on the freeway at this time of night."

"I wouldn't be running late," she answered him sarcastically, "if someone wouldn't have pulled me into the shower with them after I was completely dressed! So you have no one but yourself to blame if we lose our reservations."

"It would be a little sacrifice in comparison to what I gained by making you join me in the shower." He could hear her mumbling to herself as he moved away from the stairs chuckling. It really didn't matter if they were late or not for there were no reservations, but, in order to keep his surprise under wraps, he, at least, had to pretend to care about running late.

Picking up the small, velvet case that was hidden safely away in his pants' pocket, Ryan smiled in anticipation, eagerly awaiting Marissa's face when he gave her the anniversary gift he had been preparing for months. Specially designed just for her, he knew that she would love the present. Plus, it didn't hurt matters that it was another piece of jewelry. Just as she had forewarned him the night they were married, she had always wanted new rings, necklaces, bracelets, and earrings after discovering he had wonderful taste in jewelry, and, over the years, he had not disappointed her. No matter what though, her wedding rings always proved to be her favorites, and they never left her finger.

"Okay, I'm ready to go," Marissa announced as she came down the spiraling staircase in a hurry. "I didn't have time to put on much makeup or blow-dry my hair, but you'll just have to put up with me not looking my best."

"You look wonderful," he replied honestly. The freckles he adored so much were on full display across the bridge of her nose and brighter than ever after three months of playing out in the sun with Carys, her hair was left to dry naturally giving it a carefree, tousled, post-sex look that drove him crazy with desire, and her brilliant blue eyes were flashing with anticipation, happiness, and love. Seeing her in that moment, he couldn't wait to spend the next twenty years of his life married to her, and he knew they would be just as magical if not even more so than the first twenty years of their marriage. Reiterating his previous statement, he said, "absolutely wonderful," running his index finger down her nose and stopping it to softly brush against her full, rosy lips before leaning in and gently kissing her. Just as he felt her fall into his embrace, he pulled away, smiled, and took her hand in his as they walked out the door together to his car, her body tucked carefully into his side.

Twenty minutes later, sitting in traffic on a packed freeway just as he had predicted, the two of them sat talking softly waiting for the cars ahead of them to move along so they could reach their destination.

"Maybe for Christmas this year, we could all take a trip as a family," Marissa suggested, turning towards Ryan, the enthusiasm she felt for the idea evident upon her glowing face. "We could invite my Mom along…."

"To watch the kids so we can sneak off and get a little alone time."

"You are terrible," she exclaimed, playfully swiping her hand against his arm after he voiced his idea. "We would ask her along so she wouldn't be alone during the holidays, and," she added slyly, winking at her husband, "if she happened to volunteer to watch the kids one evening, who would I be to argue with her. After all, she is still my Mom."

Ryan laughed at her demure behavior. Picking up her hand that he held in his own, he asked, "a trip this winter sounds great. Where were you thinking we'd go?"

"I don't know," Marissa responded, "perhaps someplace cold, someplace where we could all go skiing, maybe Austria."

"I like the sound of that. We'd spend all day outside playing in the snow; then it would be back to our rooms for a night of privacy in front of the fire. A guy couldn't ask for much more," Ryan added with a roguish smirk.

"What is with you today," Marissa teased, giggling at his brazen behavior, "you're about as flirtatious as you were on our first date. It's really quite flattering, not to mention fun."

"What can I say, you just bring out this side in me." Rolling her eyes, Marissa never noticed how close Ryan was to hitting the car in front of them nor did she expect his embrace when his lips slid across hers, completely ignoring the fact that he was driving on a very crowded freeway. Before either of them could enjoy the kiss though, the sound of crunching metal filled their ears, breaking the blissfully happy couple away from each other, making Marissa's face become crestfallen as she thought their plans were about to be ruined and Ryan's face to twitch with mischief.

"No, no, no," she lamented, almost in tears, "this is not happening on my twentieth wedding anniversary. "It was cute that we got stranded on the freeway for our first date because that's how we met, it was symbolic when we got married here after the minister was delayed because of a fender-bender making traffic come to a standstill, it was even fitting that you had to deliver Conner because another accident waylaid the ambulance that was supposed to take us to the hospital, but this is just cruel. All I wanted to do was celebrate my anniversary with my husband, have nothing go wrong, but, of course, we could not travel on this cursed highway without something happening. That's it," Marissa pronounced, sitting up and wiping away her tears before they could even fall, "we are never getting on this damn freeway again. I don't care how out of the way another route will take us, I am so sick of fender benders running my life!"

Hiding a smirk, Ryan leaned across the center console and kissed her cheek quickly. "I'm sorry this happened, honey, but give me five minutes, and I'll figure something out, I promise. This is not going to ruin our anniversary. I won't let it."

Sighing, Marissa offered him a small smile as he climbed out of their expensive luxury sedan and approached the car in front of them. Turning to look out the window, she ignored the conversation Ryan was having with the owner of the car they had just hit, and patiently waited for him to return. Before she even had time to get upset though, he was back, sliding into the driver's seat, and taking her hands in his.

"It's all settled. I gave him our insurance information, he agreed to settle the claim without calling the cops, and we don't have to sit here and wait for the authorities to arrive. So," Ryan continued to talk as he moved back to sit fully in his seat and to drive, "as long as we can get the car to start, we'll be able to go out to dinner just as we planned. This was just a minor setback."

The car would not turn over though no matter how many times he tried to start it.

"Looks like we're stranded here anyway, despite your suave deal with the other driver," Marissa lamented as more tears threatened to pool out of her gorgeous eyes.

"Hey," Ryan playfully reprimanded her, "the Marissa Atwood I know does not give up that easily. Just slide into my seat, put the car in neutral, and steer it into the side lane while I push."

"But you'll ruin your good clothes."

"I'll be careful," Ryan placated her, "but even if I do stain my shirt, it'll be an easy price to pay to give you the anniversary you deserve."

Several pushes, two relatively small grease stains, and one car safely in the side lane later, Marissa was looking up at Ryan with eyes full of questions. "Now what?"

"We walk," he suggested, moving ahead of her to begin their trek. "There's an exit a couple hundred feet up the road, and I'm sure, from there, we'll be able to find a restaurant, eat, and then call a cab to take us home."

"I'm in heals, Ryan."

Looking at her with a confused look on his face, he asked, "so?"

"So! So, I can't go walking over Southern California in heals! Are you trying to kill me so that you can be free of your pesky wife and find a newer, younger, less wrinkled one?" Her words were said with humor, but he could tell the idea of walking to a restaurant did not appeal to her.

"Well then, that leaves us with two options. Either we stay here and sit in the car waiting for a tow truck to get through this traffic or we risk permanent damage to your feet and try walking anyway."

"Or," Marissa teased, slowly moving towards him with a devilish smile on her face, "there is one other option." When he just watched her without saying a word, she continued. "You, my big, strong, fit husband could offer to carry me, his little, thin, light wife to safety and be my hero."

"You just had to word that so if I said no, there was no way I would be able to avoid getting into trouble, didn't you?" Marissa merely laughed at the corner she had backed him into. "Fine," he agreed, his acceptance of her idea eliciting peals of giggles and a bright smile from his wife, "but you better be prepared to give me a full body massage later tonight when we're alone in bed.

Climbing up on his back for a piggyback ride, Marissa leaned down to his ear and kissed his neck softly before replying, "I promise to do even better than that." As they set off, she couldn't help but let her face rest in the crook of his shoulder, whispering softly to him, the contentment and joy she felt evident in her tone, "I feel just like a teenager again."

"And I feel old and out of shape," Ryan complained.

"Ah, poor baby," she sympathized. "Here, maybe this will make you feel better." Letting her lips graze against his neck again, she slowly started sucking on the skin right below his ear.

"And the night is suddenly looking up again." Flirting the entire way, Marissa and Ryan continued to banter back and forth in between her delicate kisses to reward him for his chivalrous behavior in carrying her and his lighthearted complaints. Before they knew it, they were safely off the freeway and in front of a lovely little café with an outdoor dining room amongst the gardens. It was as if the freeway had worked its magic for them again or a well thought out and designed plan went off without a flaw….or perhaps it was a combination of the two.

"Good evening," the host of the restaurant greeted Ryan and Marissa when they walked in. "I can offer you a table in our dining room in about an hour, but, if you're in a hurry and don't want to wait, there are tables available outside."

"Outside would be…" Ryan went to answer, but Marissa's soft voice interrupted him.

"Ryan, I really don't want to eat outside, especially after we had to walk here."

"You mean after I walked here and you rode," he corrected her with a smirk.

Snapping, she replied, "you know what I meant. I'm slightly hot…"

"More than slightly," he whispered playfully into her ear only to receive a glare.

"And," Marissa continued to explain, "I can eat outside in my own garden any day I want. This is my anniversary; I want to be pampered."

"Yeah, but the sooner we get done eating," Ryan argued gently, "the sooner we can get home and you'll get your present."

"One table outside, please," Marissa requested turning back to the host quickly with a gracious smile on her face. Turning back to join her hand with Ryan's she never saw the host's smirk as he walked them outside.

"You'll have to excuse the noise, Ma'am," the host explained as he escorted them outside, "but we seem to have a rather large group of people celebrating a very important event, and they're not quiet."

Before Marissa could respond, a deafening, warm "Happy Anniversary" was cheered out loud for the couple, one member of which was surprised while the other was ecstatic that his intricate plot had worked without a flaw.

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy," little Carys called as she jumped into Marissa's arms, her auburn locks streaming behind her and her large, sapphire eyes, eyes just like her mother's, glowing, "I kept the secret. Aren't you proud of me?"

"Yes I am," Marissa laughed, giving her daughter a big hug and dropping a delicate kiss on her freckled nose, "but I have no idea how Daddy managed to keep you quiet. You always tell Mommy everything even when Daddy asks you not to."

"Grandma said she'd buy me lots and lots of presents if I didn't say anything," the little impish girl revealed, smiling widely and showing off to the world that she had just recently lost her first tooth.

"Well that explains it."

"Can you put me down now, Mommy? I want to go and dance. Do you know that my new dress Grandma bought me flies out when I twirl? Want to see?"

Putting her down, Marissa replied, "in just a minute. Mommy wants to say hello to your brothers and the other guests first, but you'll be a good girl while you play, right?"

Her eyes full of mischief, Carys answered, "always, Mommy," before skipping off and, no doubt, searching for trouble.

"And look at you two," Marissa gushed, moving to pull her two sons into an embrace, kissing Conner's forehead first and then giving the same attention to Cabot's cheek, "I see Grandma bought you guys new dress clothes, too."

"Don't remind us," Cabot complained, attempting to loosen his tie before Julie's watchful hand batted his away from his collar.

"Well you both look handsome. Thank you for my surprise," Marissa added, smiling warmly at her boys. "It was perfect."

"Oh, there's more where this came from," Conner admitted excitedly before Julie pushed him out of the way.

"And that's enough from you two," she ordered, motioning for them to leave. "Now, go track down your sister. No doubt she's taking after me and already breaking hearts. I want to talk to my baby girl for a second before you two ruin my gift to the happy couple."

"Mom," Marissa chastised, "you didn't have to get us anything. This party was plenty."

"But the party was all Ryan's doing," Julie answered flippantly, pointing to her son-in-law. "All I did was make sure your kids got here and held down the festivities until the guests of honor arrived. Besides," she continued, pulling Marissa in for a tight hug, "there's no way you're arguing your way out of this present. After the party is over, a limo is going to pick the two of you up, take you to the airport, and you're going off to Greece for a week."

"But the kids, Ryan's work," Marissa pointed out only to have her mother dismiss her concerns.

"I'm going to stay with the kids," she answered, "and I've already talked to Ryan's boss. As soon as I said I was the mysterious woman who inherited all of Jones' money after he died last year, he was butter in my hands. Plus," she added smugly, "he's also my date to the charity ball next month."

"Mom!"

"Oh, don't Mom me. I may be getting older theoretically, but my plastic surgeon is doing a damn fine job of keeping me young physically, if I do say so myself. Now," she ordered, pushing both Ryan and Marissa towards their guests, "go, mingle, eat, drink, and, whatever you do, make sure you share a few publicly obscene embraces when your kids are looking."

"I can't believe you did all this," Marissa gushed when she and Ryan were, once again, standing by themselves while the rest of the party enjoyed themselves around them. "I mean, the accident, walking here, this was all part of the plan, wasn't it?" His shy smile answered her question. "Thank you. This is amazing."

"Twenty years and three kids later, you don't think I'd let this day go uncelebrated do you? You deserve this."

"No," Marissa corrected him, "we deserve this."

Turning towards her husband as they sat on the plane while in-flight to Greece, Marissa put her most innocent face to work as she tried to persuade him to do what she wanted. "So," she began, fluttering her eyelashes at him coyly, "you said something earlier about a present. Care to give it to me now?"

"What," he asked, playfully, "can't you wait a few hours for the plane to land in Greece and for us to check into our hotel?"

"No." He chuckled at her answer. "I've been patient all night, and, if I wait until we're in our room, it'll technically be the day after our anniversary, and where's the fun in that?"

"That's a good point," Ryan conceded. "However, what do I get if I give you your present now?"

"I'll be a really good girl during the flight," Marissa promised, snuggling her body into his and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Too bad I was hoping you'd agree to be a really bad girl. Twenty one years ago on our flight to Paris I asked you to help me join the mile high club, but you said no." He only continued after he saw the flash of recognition move across his wife's face. "What would you say if I asked you again?"

Moving away from him, Marissa settled back into her seat, pouting. "We're not having sex in the bathroom, so I guess I'll just have to wait to open my present in Greece."

"You're no fun," Ryan pouted, pulling her gift out of his pocket and handing it to her. "You can open your present now, but I expect at least one long, very inappropriate kiss for my efforts."

Smiling, she leaned over and gave him a kiss as she took the present into her own hands, turning back to it impatiently as soon as Ryan was pleased with her embrace. Unwrapping it quickly, she tossed the paper onto his lap and ignored his sarcastic comments and digs that she was worse than her children when it came to gifts. Opening the small jewelry box, Marissa's eyes fell across a beautiful, simplistically elegant mother's ring. In the center was a sapphire, her birthstone, and then circling it were the gemstones of their children, peridot for Conner, amethyst for Cabot, and ruby for Carys. Together, with the gold accents, the stones formed a flower.

"I figured it was safe at this point to get you this," Ryan explained, slipping it on her finger. "I think, by now, we're definitely done having children. We just have to sit back and wait for grandchildren now."

"And it better take a while! I'm not ready for my babies to have babies yet," Marissa demanded, tears glistening in her eyes as she melted into his arms and kissed him greedily. After a moment, she pulled away, running her hands across his jaw as she looked into his eyes. "Thank you. It's beautiful…perfect." Before he could say anything, she leaned into him again, taking his lips in another endless, passionate embrace.

Pulling away from her gently, Ryan rested his forehead against his wife's looking into her loving eyes the entire time. "Happy Anniversary, Marissa."

And, indeed, it was.


End file.
